


Chasing Ghosts

by PaleEmeraldNebula



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Bad Wolf, Drama, F/M, Gen, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2018-01-14 00:25:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1245823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaleEmeraldNebula/pseuds/PaleEmeraldNebula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Many months after losing her, the Doctor sees visions of Rose. Every time he runs after her, it saves his life. With someone trying to kill him, Rose’s image haunting him, and unable to run from his regrets, the Doctor must confront all three.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by the fabulously wonderful kilodalton!
> 
> Takes place in series 3 after 42.

The Doctor turned to Martha as she skidded to a halt beside him, crushing the loose pavement under her feet loud enough for him to hear the rocks pop under the pressure of her weight.

“You want me to do what?” she asked with a voice pitched high enough to make him wince.

He scratched his sideburns, his eyes floating away from Martha. “Sing.”

“You want me to go up to a ten some odd meter high angry slug alien and sing to it?” she said, intoning each syllable deliberately and staring at him as if he were eating his coat.

A loud roar erupted behind her and the Doctor took a peek at the slug slithering between the suburban homes of the area, destroying street lamps, mail boxes, and lawn ornaments. He tried to give Martha a reassuring smile.

“Yup! Usually these slugs are very friendly, peaceful bunch. This one is just a bit upset that we’ve, or I mean me, sort of, not intentionally mind, destroyed its nest, and – allofitslarva.” The Doctor began to rub his neck. A second later he took a deep breath and nodded in the direction of the slug. “Song vibration will calm it down to the point it’ll shrink back to its normal size. If we don’t do something soon, it’ll start destroying the houses and force UNIT to come in and kill it.”

“But I can’t sing! What about you? Why can’t you sing?”

“Me?” He immediately screwed up his face in disgust. “Time Lords aren’t meant to sing, I’d just enrage it even more. I’m sure you have a lovely voice!”

Martha jolted her head back and shook. “This is comple– Alright, I’ll do it.” She sighed and spun around to face the slug. “What song?”

He put his hands in his pockets and kept his eyes forward. “Any will do, so long as you remember the lyrics and tune.”

He squared his shoulders and kept motionless as he watched Martha run up behind the slug and sing a recent pop song with a rocky voice. He recognized the song as something he’d heard once or twice on the speakers of shops they’d recently visited in town. He thought the lyrics were quite daft, something about bleeding love. He stiffened when he heard the third verse as thoughts of Rose emerged and forced his mind to remain blank, not wanting to be distracted.

The slug stopped in its path and twisted its body to look at Martha. The Doctor eased his shoulders and let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding, waiting for the slug to shrink. The slug roared again and started crawling its way towards them, remaining large and threatening.

Martha quickly stepped backward before turning to glare at the Doctor. “What do we do now?”

He opened his mouth, his lips floundering like a fish for a moment. “Sing something else! It obviously didn’t like the song!”

She turned to look at the oncoming slug and then back at him. “What do I pick?”

“Just-just…anyone besides that one!”

Closing her eyes, she lifted her chin in the air and faced the slug. She sings a song he had never heard before, but the melody sounded soothing enough that he thought she made the right choice. Her voice was strong and steady and hoping the song would work this time, he turned his attention to the giant slug bearing down upon them.

As the creature drew close the words of Martha’s new song filtered through to him and his blood ran cold. He swallowed the recently formed lump in his throat as he listened intently. The song was about mistakes, reoccurring mistakes, and he lowered his eyes to tune out the painful lyrics.

The slug began to tremble, causing the ground beneath their feet to shake violently. Martha pitched forward, forcing out the words of the song. She caught her balance, and the Doctor took fast large leaps in her direction. A few meters before them the slug stopped. It thrashed about, letting out a pitiful cry, and then slowly shrank.

On the street in front of them, the now-tiny slug wiggled in protest and then relaxed. The Doctor took a step forward and bent down. He picked up the slug using his forefinger and thumb, holding it gently in the palm of his other hand. He gave it a warm smile as the creature moved softly over his skin. “There we go, back to normal!”

He heard Martha approaching, but he kept his eyes on the slug, lightly touching it with his finger.

“Will that enrage it again, you poking at it?” She asked with a taut voice.

“Oh, I doubt it; I told you, normally these little gastropods are very docile.”

“Tell that to the street,” she mumbled. “Are there more of them that we have to worry about?”

Tearing his eyes away from the slug, he scanned the area, noting that none of the houses were actually damaged; mostly the lawns were in disarray and some of the cars needed to be replaced. “You’d be surprised how much actual damage someone as small as this can do when angered. But there shouldn’t be any more of them; these creatures came to Earth about twenty centuries ago on the hairy backs of the Kiwis, extinct now. And these slimy slugs don’t breed much.”

“Kiwis were aliens?”

He looked back at the creature in his palm, lifting his hand to his face and craning his neck to get a closer view. “Ye-up!”

“Shame that one lost his family, probably lonely, he is,” she said.

Looking at the tiny being in his hand, he felt a surge of pity for it. He schooled his features as he recalled, with a heavy stone of guilt weighing him down, that he was the reason for the creature’s newfound loneliness. “I’m sure it’ll reproduce again. This one is still young and uses agamogenesis to spawn its young.” Looking up, the Doctor sniffed nonchalantly, trying to dismiss the unpleasant thoughts. Jogging over to the closest patch of grass, he carefully placed the slug among the leaves. He faced Martha. “Come on then, didn’t you want to see your family?”

“Of course I did, but don’t you think we should stick around–”

“Nah, it’ll be fine. Off we go, got places to see, things to do,” he said as he walked down the street, away from the mess.

Martha caught up with him, sticking close to his side as they walked. In his peripheral vision he saw her pursing her lips while keeping her gaze locked on the street ahead of them. “I can’t wait to see my mum; she must have thought me mad after that phone call.”

“What phone call?”

“I dialed her when I was trapped in the escape pod; I thought I might not make it.”

He tilted his head slightly towards her and grinned, keeping his voice full of good humor for her sake and for his. “But you did! No worries, I’m sure your mother was happy to hear from you.” Glancing around at the houses with knitted brows, he continued, “So which one is your mother’s?”

“None of these are. We’re far off; we should be on the other side of town,” she said matter-of-factly.

They stop walking and turned to each other. “Hmm, that right? I suppose we’ll pop in the TARDIS and –”

“No! Or, really, I’ll just take the tube. Don’t think I can handle another giant slug or a flying alien gorilla to deal with.”

“Flying alien gorilla? I’ve never seen one of those, well, at least on Earth, technically. Where did you come up with that?”

“Seemed just as ridiculous as a giant slug, I suppose.” She faintly lifted her brows, her expression alternating between a smile and a frown. “I’ll just meet you back here? Or you can pop up near the house or…?”

Pouting, the Doctor looked up to the sky, thinking of all the things a human would consider ridiculous or silly. “You haven’t seen anything yet if you think that a metamorphosing slug is the most ridiculous thing to encounter. Wait till I take you to Amgart V, they’ve got these –” His eyes fell back to his companion, whose blatant grimace silenced his tangent. “Oh, alright, your family. I’ll just meet you back here.”

Her face softened at his words. She gave him one firm nod and they began to walk again. “I guess I can’t blame you for not wanting to see my mum, she slapped you the last time.”

He grunted in agreement, recalling the sting of her mother’s hand connecting with his face. Another memory sprang to mind then, of another mother slapping another face. No, there were lots of reasons he didn’t want to see Martha’s family. And most of them he didn’t want to think about.

He walked a few paces before he realized that Martha was no longer next him. He stopped and turned around. She stood a few meters away at a street corner, staring at him expectantly.

“Tube’s that way.” She made a fast gesture with her hand in the direction perpendicular to the street they had been walking. “I’ll see you later Doctor,” she said offhandedly.

She left in a hurry and he gave her a small salute before continuing onward to the TARDIS. The homey suburban street gave way to a busy town square, filled with people that had missed the action only a few blocks away. He wondered how people could dismiss something as obvious as a rampaging giant slug, but knowing humans, they could delude themselves rather well when it came to things they found unpleasant.

He turned a corner near a bakery, enjoying the smell of fresh bread and pastries, when the air around him shifted enough for him to stop. Normally the world around him would bend, making timelines easy to sense and understand. He could count seconds in the back of his immense mind without effort, but for a moment, nothing bent and his time count had paused.

He took in the people surrounding him. A car had skidded to a halt to avoid hitting a man in a brown jacket, probably because the man hadn’t looked both ways before crossing the street. The worker at the bakery had dropped a pan of cupcakes, now the sweets decorated the floor. A young girl had tripped on the sidewalk a few shops away, causing her hair up-do to come undone, leaving her looking morose.

Everything and everyone looked normal, something should have been off. Perhaps something small had changed in the fabric of time, too small for him to notice in the open. If it had been _that_ small it wasn’t worth the worry. He let out an aggravated huff and continued on. When the TARDIS stood three meters in front of him, nestled comfortably in an alley between a car garage and Real Estate agency, the Doctor heard a low buzzing followed by a loud metal click. He stilled and a chill crept over his skin. Looking for the source of the sound, he turned around, careful not to make any rapid movements. 

He saw her then and his breath hitched. His jaw slackened as his brows rose at the impossibility of it. She stood on the opposite sidewalk, staring at him, a challenge apparent on her perfect face.

Rose.

He took off in a rush to her, unable to keep a smile off his face. He hopped onto the street, momentarily distracted by a car careening to a stop at his knees and he swung out his hands onto the hood of the car to keep his balance. The car honked and he ignored the driver’s shouts as he searched the street to see if Rose stood where last he saw her. The empty space where she had been made his hearts clench. He pushed off the car and made it to the sidewalk. He looked left then right and caught sight of her back, walking away from him, down the path back to the bakery. He ran, pushing people aside to close the distance between him and his lost companion.

“Rose!” he yelled, hoping she would stop and turn to him. 

The searing heat came before the shockwave. A loud boom assaulted his ears as the force of the explosion behind him lifted him off his feet and onto the cemented ground. Dust and glass rained down on his head and body, peppering the area in blackened debris.

The next sounds he heard were the roaring flames and the cries and scuffles of people near him. The Doctor moved his limbs, testing to see if he sustained any injuries before tensing his back and standing up. He promptly looked for Rose, glancing at the mass of people that were recovering from the event.

“Rose!” he yelled, this time full of desperation and worry.

He didn’t see her or anyone that he could mistake for her nearby. Darting through the decimated area, he looked frantically for any signs of Rose. He saw two burning buildings a few blocks away, and closer, bent street signs, ripped awnings, and broken windows. She hadn’t been that far from him when he had been knocked down. Where was she?

In the midst of searching for her, he knelt next to the first person prone to the floor and checked for a heartbeat and injuries, before moving onto the next one. He jerked up in frustration, pacing the streets as he ran his fingers through his hair.

A boiling panic seized his muscles and he froze. Had she gotten trapped or injured someplace he couldn’t see? Where was she?

He thought back to what he saw, noticing for the first time the way Rose acted. She didn’t run to him after he saw her and she hadn’t come to him when he called, not even glancing his way. She kept walking away. It didn’t add up. Pulling at his hair, he clenched his teeth and almost chocked on an irritated growl. Had he hallucinated Rose?

He remembered Martha, and worried that she might not have gotten far enough to escape the explosion, hurried over to the first working payphone that he saw. He grabbed his sonic screwdriver from the pocket of his jacket and pointed the tool at the machine. The vibrating noise of his sonic drowned out the chaos surrounding him for only a few seconds. He picked up the receiver and dialed Martha’s cell with lanky, steady fingers.

He heard the phone connect. “Martha, are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine. Hello, by the way. Why are you asking?” She sounded confused. Behind her voice, he could make out the grinding tracks of a moving train.

“There was an explosion near the TARDIS; the street’s covered in rubble.”

“What?” she exclaimed loudly and then paused. “Are you hurt? Should I turn back?”

“I don’t think I’ve been injured, continue on to your mother’s, I’m going to poke about and see if I can find out exactly what happened.” There must have been a reason he saw Rose right before a large explosion destroyed the area. “I’ll contact you again if I need you.”

“Doc –” He dropped the receiver, ending the call.

Instead of staying a safe distance away, he headed to the burning buildings, leaping over burnt bricks and large pieces of wood. The ruined Real Estate sign from the building next to the TARDIS rested on its side in the middle of the roadway and he saw the ground floor of the car garage had collapsed, causing the whole structure to look extremely unstable.

A few police and fire officers had arrived on the scene and he could make out more sirens in the distance.  He slowed, trying to remain unseen, weaseling his way through the crowds. Cutting his way through the police lines, he entered the alley where his TARDIS waited.

Her normally bright blue hull now sported black smears of ash and soot. Relief flooded his system as he noticed that other than surface burns, she was fine. A burning piece of wood popped and more cement from the car garage fell off the structure and landed next to him. In long, swift strides he made it to the doors of the TARDIS.

Hesitating before the final turn of his key, he sensed someone watching him. He turned to look behind him and squinted at his surroundings. The throng of people gathered at the mouth of the alley would not be able to see him or the TARDIS and there were no others in viewing distance. Unable to locate the source of his discomfort and knowing he had more important things to worry about, he opened the doors to his ship and went inside.

He took off his coat and threw it over the choral strut to his right, then headed over to the console. He began flipping switches, turning knobs, and fiddling with the controls, scanning the recent timeline for a proper safe zone where he could land the ship inside one of the buildings that been targeted.

The display screen flashed and he made the adjustments to land a few hours ahead, inside the Real Estate building. The damage to the car garage made it impossible to land at the center of the event. Both buildings had been targeted, but he had no idea why. They weren’t important and they certainly didn’t seem connected.

Unless he factored in that his TARDIS had been parked between both. But he didn’t want to jump to conclusions.

He held on to the edges of the console as his ship loudly shuddered and a muted thud signaled that they had arrived at their destination. His tongue curled over his top lip as he looked up at the Time Rotor to make sure everything was in order and hurried over to the exit. He grabbed his jacket, shrugged it on, and opened the doors.

He stepped out into the charred building while he fixed his lapels in place. The black walls leaked grey smoke and the ground cracked under his foot. The TARDIS had situated herself in a secure cupboard, near the stairs. He sneaked out, into the unknown, mindful of where he placed his weight.

A group of people, in hazmat suits and holding equipment, passed through a hallway on the far side of the floor and the Doctor followed. The group went down another set of stairs to the basement and spread out. The Doctor took his own course, following all his senses, to the seat of the bomb. The place where he wanted to go was lined off with official tape, guarded by a few police officers.  Taking out his psychic paper, he held it up for the officers and they hastily let him through.

The area was streaked with black lines, all leading outward from the center of the room. A huge gaping hole made up most of the ceiling. Fragments of the explosive littered the outer area, huddling together near the black outlines of the impact. He kneeled down near a group of debris and shrapnel, drawing his brows together. He used his sonic to shift through the half-destroyed items, not wanting to turn on his device in case it grabbed the wrong type of attention. He pieced together the items to form a rudimentary idea of what type of bomb did this. As the idea became clearer his brows drew closer and closer together. This wasn’t done by anyone from this time period, maybe not even someone from Earth.

He heard the footsteps of a couple approaching him from behind. Tucking his sonic away, he discreetly nabbed two of the closest bomb fragments near his fingertips.

“Who are you then?” a rough, peevish voice asked.

Standing and turning to the newcomers, the Doctor took a deep breath and opened his mouth to respond, while pocketing the bomb fragments. With his other hand, he pulled out his psychic paper and with large, obvious movements flashed the paper to the two men in very official looking suits questioning him.

“John Smith, bomb inspector, from the thirty second district, just stopping by to take a quick look, see if there is anything different about this case.” Shifting his eyes back and forth between them, he put away his paper and nodded. “Right, well, obviously everything is in order and it’s just the same old, same old, isn’t it. I’ll be out of your way.”

The Doctor squeezed through in-between the two men, heading back to the staircase where he and the group of hazmat workers came from.

Their voices were loud enough to hear even after he passed through the police tape. “Do we even have a thirty second district?” one of them asked.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he couldn’t overhear the rest of their discussion. He made it to the ground floor and the cupboard where the TARDIS waited and didn’t hesitate to enter his ship. He forwent taking off his jacket, too concerned with the ideas and images swirling in his head.

Amidst the storm of his thoughts, a sharp memory from many months ago sprang forth:

_Swinging on a netted hammock, Rose’s ringing laughter vibrated through his chest as she pressed a little closer to him. With his arm around her shoulder, he held her as tight as he could._

_“I can’t believe you did that!” she uttered joyfully._

_“Really, is it that hard to believe?”_

_“No, suppose not,” she replied with a breathy laugh._

_He stared at the spotless green sky, the blue sand of the beach, and the purple waves, as their laughter died off and a heavy silence descended over them._

_Playing with his tie, Rose lowered her eyes. “Don’t want this day to end really,” she stammered out._

_Tilting his head back to look at her, he studied her slumped shoulders and the way she refused to meet his eyes. “All good things must come to an end,” he said with a sliver of melancholy. He doesn’t know what prompted him to say such a thing._

_Rose lifted her head and a corner of her lips tugged upward. “Not us, we’re too good to end.”_

_He grinned at the lightness of her reply. “Hmm, yeah, we are.”_

_Looking away, Rose tucked herself closer to him. “I’ll always be with you Doctor, even after…” she whispered, and the Doctor thought perhaps he wasn’t meant to hear it._

_Shrugging, he kept his voice playful, “Oh definitely, I won’t ever be rid of you, since you happen to be my third heart. One I can’t live without.”_

_“Third heart? Isn’t that one too many?” She glanced back at him with one eyebrow raised._

_“Nope, just right,” he placed his hand on the center of his chest, “right here.”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“Oh, yes.”_

Shaking himself from the memory, the Doctor worked the controls of the TARDIS, more roughly than he normally would. He charted the ship into the Time Vortex; he wanted time to sort out his findings. The bombings, the image of Rose, and the certainty that someone with alien or future technology could be the culprit had to be connected. There had been too much evidence at the seat of the bomb to deny that whoever had planned this was not the typical twenty first century terrorist. The bombs were too precise in their destruction and the debris contained enough time distortion for him to know they were out of place.

But how were they connected? Why would someone do this, for what purpose: to kill or grab attention, to protest against poor real estate’s for car garages? If he had been the target then the plan failed. It failed because Rose had led him away, unless she had been bait.

Closing his eyes, his hands paused over the console. His imagination had caused the images of Rose. His pathetic mind had brought it on because he mourned her loss. Knowing that something had been wrong, his mind created the lure of Rose to yank him away from danger. He would have been killed, with no chance of regeneration, had he been close to the TARDIS when those bombs went off.

Turning to lean back against the console, his hands dove into his pockets to pull out the two pieces of bomb fragments he had taken. Both were long, contorted shards of hardened plastic. Putting one of them on console, he inspected the other, turning it over in his hand. Clinging onto the shrapnel, a half burnt label remained legible. He read the smudged words and recognized the manufacturer. Next to the bakery in the town square a small, raggedy electronics’ shop sold specialty items, custom designed, per the sign in the window. He’d have to give them a visit to check if they were helping construct futuristic bombs.

Letting the piece from the shop rest on the console, the Doctor picked up the other fragment, knowing the item did not come from Earth. “Oh, what have we here?” He pulled out his glasses and put them on.

Lighter and stronger than regular hard plastic, this type of synthetic could only come from the fifty fourth century, in the Noacyl region of space. He juggled it in his hand, bouncing it lightly to test his hypothesis. Twisting it between his fingers, he turned it over, and found a collection of heavy soot pooled inside a crevice. He lifted it to his face and blew the soot from the material, then wiped away the left over ash to see, craved in large bold letters, the words: BAD WOLF.

The shrapnel fell to the grated floor of the TARDIS with a piercing clang.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by the lovely kilodalton!
> 
> Sorry for the late update! Hopefully next chapter will be brought to you sooner, since I'm finally getting the hang of the story...I think!

“Come on, come on, come on,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

The Doctor banged his fist rapidly on the newly painted door of Martha’s family home. Warm yellow light spilled out of the windows and he heard faint muffled voices from within. No one answered. He knocked again, hard enough for the door to bounce back from the impact. Looking up in frustration as the people inside moved impeccably slow, he reached for his sonic screwdriver. He aimed it at the lock, turned it on, and seconds later with a metal click the door inched open. He yanked on the handle to open it further and rushed inside, nearly running into Martha’s mother, Francine.

She looked at him with wide, furious eyes. “What are you doing? You can’t just break into someone’s house!”

“Where’s Martha?” he asked brusquely.

Francine folded her arms and tilted her head, glaring at him. “She’s eating dinner.”

“I need you to get her for me,” he demanded, his voice dangerously low.

“You will not be making demands on me in my own house. You’ve broken in and you should be thankful I don’t call the police.” She stood rooted to the ground.

He opened his mouth, ready to retort, when Martha came into view, walking up behind her mother. “Doctor?” she asked. Her eyes swept over him and her brows drew together in a scowl. “Where’ve you been, it’s been hours since you called—I started to think you were trapped in one of those buildings they had on the news!”

“I jumped ahead in the TARDIS, needed to in order to investigate. But that doesn’t matter; we need to leave, immediately.”

Martha gaped at him, and then diverted her attention to the front door. “Alright, let me get my shoes.” She took one step forward when Francine placed a hand on her shoulder.

She held Martha in place as she glowered at the Doctor. “No, whatever you need her for Doctor, it can wait. Let her finish dinner in peace.”

“It can’t wait, either we leave right now or I leave, without Martha,” he said gravely.

“And maybe that’s for the best,” Francine bit back with a hard, clear voice.

Martha stood between them, gawking at them both. “And I happen to be invisible? Mom, it’s fine, really. I want to go with the Doctor. It’ll be alright.”

Francine took both of Martha’s hands. “Sweetheart, there are things you need to know about that man. He’s dangerous, reckless, and careless with the people who travel with him. He got the girl before you killed! It’s not safe. Please!” she urged, her voice shaking.

“We’ve got to go,” he said with finality. He glanced at Martha then to Francine before walking out of the house. He lagged near the edge of their yard to watch Martha make her decision, impatient for her to be quick about it.

Martha stood in front of her mother, shaking loose from her hands and placing them on Francine’s upper arms. “I don’t who you’ve been talking to, but I know about her and he said she’s fine. I trust him. I’m sorry Mom. It’ll be alright, you’ll see!”

As Martha made her way out, the Doctor saw Francine pull out her cell, flip it open, and dial as she walked to the front door after her daughter. Right as Martha came to his side Francine shut the front of the house, glowering at him one last time.

He ran towards the TARDIS, parked in the shadows between street lamps a few houses away.

Martha kept his pace, even though his long legs had him at an advantage. “Why do we need to hurry? What happened in your investigation?” Martha asked.

Scrutinizing the street, the Doctor saw nothing out of the ordinary. Political signs to vote for Harold Saxon in the upcoming election decorated polls and fences,  forgotten garbage bins waited to be tucked inside littered walk ways, and cars were parked in tight rows nestled next to each other. He wondered when an unknown element would pop up from the dark corners, ready to attack.

After reading Bad Wolf on the shrapnel, he had expected the Cloister Bell to ring, but nothing came. The TARDIS remained quiet, humming with the song of the universe, calm and patient. The walls of the universe should have been collapsing, since Rose and Bad Wolf were sending him signs. Rose shouldn’t be able to do that, if that was even what these signs or images of Rose were. He still didn’t know. He didn’t know enough and that only added to his frustrations. Whatever this situation held for him, he knew it to be bad, for both him and Rose.    

Digging into his pockets for the key to the TARDIS he relied on his respiratory bypass system to calm his hearts. Pain tore at his chest. At the prospect of Rose returning his hearts beat to an erratic tune, leaving his head weightless and his hands shaking. There were too many questions that could end in heartbreak and every time he thought of the –

He opened the TARDIS door and entered his ship, focusing on going to the console and setting their next destination, when he caught sight of the fragments still resting under a round knob near the monitor. They held his attention, eating at his conscience. Guilt built upon guilt. How many had died so far since the first bombing? Around twelve, thirteen?

“Doctor?” Martha’s voice filtered through his thoughts.

He turned away from the fragments, punching in coordinates, keeping his eye on the Time Rotor. “We’ve got to go to a shop, a very specific shop, about a week ago, maybe less, a few days?” He furrowed his brows as he peered at the screen and then adjusted his trajectory. “This is important, imperative, that we do so immediately, the whole universe may be in danger. Or not. I need to find out.”

“That’s not confusing at all. Does this deal with those bombings earlier?”

“Yes,” he said flatly.

“And?” Martha asked, a hint of annoyance gracing her voice.

“And what?” He looked at her, quirking his eyebrows and lifting his top lip.

“What did you find?” she asked.

He schooled his features and went back to flying the TARDIS. “Oh, that there is a possibility that someone with access to fifty-fourth century technologies may or may not be after something or someone that could alter the course of the universe. Perhaps. I’m a bit fuzzy on the details at the moment. That’s why I need to ask a few questions and follow a lead, at a shop.”

“So you’re a detective now, on a case to save everyone again?” Martha teased.

The Doctor shifted to the other side of the console, pulling a lever, and the TARDIS rattled, landing with a loud thump. He heard Martha mumble, something that was possibly “Right, then.” But he was already moving to the exit and she followed, straight through the doors and out into the cloudy London day in the middle of an empty parking lot. He squinted at the town ahead, his jaw quivering at the sight of the working car garage and intact Real Estate sign off in the distance.

“Huh,” Martha took in the surroundings, “The shop’s in the same town as those bombings?”

He shoved his hands into his pockets and surged forward, heading to town. Keeping his eyes straight ahead of him as they moved through the crowded streets, he wondered which person they past would die tomorrow because of him. Most certainly some of these people will die because someone is trying to kill him and _if_ he dies it _may_ cause some kind of catastrophe that endangers the universe _if_ Bad Wolf is trying to send him messages.

_If if if if if…_

“Aren’t you going to answer _any_ of my questions?” Martha commanded, jumping in front of him and walking backwards as he walked forward.

“What?” He took a glance at Martha then directed his eyes over her shoulder. “Yes, no, no, sorry, my mind’s on something a bit more important right now than your constant jabbering.”

Martha stopped dead, forcing him to stop as well. Her eyes shot daggers at him. “Then what did you need me for? I could have sat home and finished dinner!” She flung her arms out, balling them into fists when they reached her side.

He stared at her, his lips a thin line creating dimples on his cheeks. Noticing the anger and hurt reflecting from her eyes, another bout of guilt stabbed him in the gut and he exhaled through his nose. “I’m…” he glanced upward, his attention flitting to the sky, “This is…” his eyes came down to meet  hers, “Martha, I need your help. You’ve got a good eye, a pair of them really, and a brilliant mind and a little extra added to mine is exactly what the Doctor ordered. Now, the shop is close, we need to pick up the pace.” He led them onward, Martha falling back into place next to him, “And to answer your question, yes, we are in the same town. The type of bomb our bomber used is highly volatile and time sensitive, it would need a part created not only in the same time period as it would be detonated in, it would also need to be the very last thing that was attached to the bomb just before it exploded. That’s why they needed the shop to be close.”

The Doctor took note of the other shops and businesses in the area. The bakery he remembered had a line out the door, and the beauty salon had enough people packed inside that they had to keep their doors open.

They stood outside the electronics’ shop, peering inside the glass. The sign on the window read in big sloppy calligraphy “Miller’s Magnificent Machines”.

The Doctor grabbed the door handle and pulled. Little bells chimed, signaling to whomever that customers had arrived. He held the door open for Martha, giving her a playful wink. “After you, Detective Inspector Jones,” he said, ushering her inside.

The tiny shop was lined with rackety shelves, the color of the dullest brown. The dust caked on top of the electronics from the mid to early twentieth century made everything a slight grey. At the back of the shop a counter ran from wall to wall, bowed and repaired a few times with plywood. Behind the counter sat a young man, no older than fifteen, watching them expectantly.

The Doctor refrained from taking another step. Time changed around him, transforming from a flowing river to immobile mass of matter, suffocating everything around him in fixed points of time. He could no longer sense time with any accuracy. To alleviate his distress and discomfort, he took in large gulps of breath, his eyes widening as he tried to make sense of this newest sensation.

Martha was already at the counter and he knew with certainty that he could only go forward. His instincts told him that the change in time had something to do with him—or, more accurately, the change in time was being affected by the actions he currently took. And he could do nothing about it.

He stepped forward, flipping open his psychic paper, aiming an intense glare at the boy working the counter.

The boy leaned back, away from them, “What do –” he read the psychic paper, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

The Doctor pocketed the paper. “Did you or did you not construct a Menolensic Bi-fed Reverse Converter within, let’s say, sometime in the last week, hmm?”

“A wha’?” the boy asked with a strangled voice.

The Doctor clicked his teeth. “About this big,” he held his hands about six inches apart, “shaped like an octagon with four connectors for integrated peripherals, and two out going male/female cables?”

The boy’s eyes turned upward, his mouth falling open, as he held a finger to his chin.

The Doctor slammed both his palms on the counter, rattling the jars and trinkets resting on the time warped wood. “Think! Or do you want to be held accountable for impeding our investigation?”

The young man fell off his chair, scrambling back to his feet in hast. “Oh, yeah, I – I need to check the books. H-hold on!”

The worker tripped on his way to the back of the store, disappearing from view. The Doctor tapped his finger on the counter, the rhythm picking up pace as the seconds went by. He turned to look at Martha. She was watching him with raised eyebrows and a tucked chin, her expression incredulous. Perhaps she thought he was being overly rude?  Unperturbed, he looked back to the boy as he emerged from the back room, carrying a large appointment book. The boy dropped the book on the counter between them, flipping through it erratically.

“Um,” the boy licked his fingers to flip another page, “Here it is. But it doesn’t say Meno Bi Reverser.”

The Doctor nodded and he held back an eye roll. “Menolensic Bi-fed Reverse Converter, yeah, and did it say who requested it?”

“No,” The worker’s finger scanned the book, “nothing here but notes on building a release panel, octagon shaped with two out going male/female cables attached.”

“Payment?” the Doctor asked.

“A watch, a fob watch,” the boy locked eyes with the Doctor and without pause said; “I’ll get it for you!”

The boy kneeled under the counter and sounds of paper and various items rustling filled the shop. The clinking sound of keys on metal overtook the rest of the noise for only a moment. The worker popped up, a smile on his face. He placed the item, the fob watch, on top of the appointment book.

“Here it is. Notes say it’s worth more than what the thing we built cost.”

The hair on the Doctor’s arms stood on end as he stared at the fob watch. He gingerly picked it up with one hand, the other putting on his glasses. The cool metal of the watch didn’t warm when he raised his temperature slightly. The blood drained from his face as he realized the metal was made of Bazoolium.

“What is it?” Martha asked.

That day with Rose, when he bought the trinket for her mother made of Bazoolium, had been one of his fondest memories of them together. They had shopped all day, not once getting into any sort of trouble, Rose remarking on it being a perfect new, new date. He’d kissed her on a whim, a simple, chaste kiss of gratitude he’d given her once or twice before—a guilty pleasure of his, something that crossed the line he had neatly created between them.

An unpleasant prickle swept over his skin, making his stomach drop. He whirled around, squeezing the watch between his fingers painfully. There, right outside the window, reading the same sign he had moments before with utter amusement playing on her face, was Rose. His muscles unhinged and he nearly dropped the watch.

“Doctor?” Martha’s voice sounded far away, though she was right beside him.

Rose finished reading the sign and walked out of view. The Doctor bolted, chasing after her, hoping this time he could catch her and she would be real.

“Hey!” the boy yelled, his voice mingling with that of the bells of the door.

The beat of Martha’s steady running foot falls thudded behind him. “Doctor!” she called breathlessly, “What are you doing?”

He wasn’t in reaching distance of Rose, not yet. He needed to work his legs harder to be able to reach her, grab her, and hold her in his arms again. Her path seemed to be in the direction of the TARDIS, lighting his heart and spurring him to run faster.

“Rose!” he yelled, stretching an arm forward.

He blinked and Rose vanished as the ground beneath his feet trembled. Behind him a large boom rented the air and waves of heat hit his back. He abruptly stopped and turned to face the way he had came, right as Martha collided into him, knocking them both to the ground.

They looked back at Miller’s Magnificent Machines and watched as flames engulfed the building. The window had shattered completely, fire licking up the sides, eating away at the dust and wires.

The Doctor grabbed Martha gently by the shoulders. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I don’t think so,” she said wearily. He stood and held out his hand to help her to her feet. She brushed off her clothes and the corners of her brows pulled upward. “I can’t believe this happened again. Should we run in, see if the worker survived?”

The crackling of the fire, popping wood and glass, roared in his ears. His eyes wandered over the orange tongues of the flames and the blackened walls of the once old shop. He didn’t know the name of the boy, barely a man in human years.

He looked down at the watch in his hand, wanting to toss it into the fire. He didn’t.

“No, he would have died instantly. There’s no point,” he said thickly. He faced Martha, looking at her intently. “Martha, did you see anyone when I ran out?”

“I’m sorry, no I didn’t.”

“Are you sure—completely sure?”

“I’m sorry Doctor, I didn’t see anyone. You just took off!” Martha exclaimed.

He raced back to the TARDIS, grateful that they were already half way back. “This is not good. This is very not good. This is the very definition of not good.”

“Okay, so I take it that this is bad. What does that mean?” Martha asked.

“Tomorrow, well earlier today from our point of view, when I past by that very same shop it was fine. Not a burnt wall or broken window. Had these events happened under the normal laws of time the shop would have been destroyed beyond recognition and I would have never made the connection. It was only when we entered the shop that something changed. That could only mean one thing,” he paused to look at her, “Someone is watching my every move and making decisions based on my actions. We have to be careful.”

He entered the TARDIS, tossing the watch on the console roughly. Standing next to him, Martha watched as he worked the controls. She remained silent. He took a quick glimpse at her appearance, looking for injuries. Her clothes were a bit dirty, but otherwise she was fine.

“We still got that.” Martha nodded to the fob watch, her voice optimistic.

He beamed, “Right! A good detective always follows the bread crumbs!” He circled the console, whacking knobs and smacking buttons. “The good news about this bread crumb,” he picked up the watch in one swift move and threw it in Martha’s direction, effortlessly catching it with both hands, “is that it has a serial number engraved on the base, easily traceable. Go on, open it up and look inside!”

She tapped the button of the watch, opening it. Her eyes flashed to his, and her face tightened in anger. “So someone is watching your every move and blowing up places you visit? That means someone is trying to kill you! And you want to go search another shop? That’s mad; you’re going to get yourself killed! Can’t the Judoon do anything? They’re the police of the universe, they’ve got to do something, right?!”

He put his hands in his pockets and smoothed out his features, all temporary feelings of merriment draining out of him. “It’s not their jurisdiction. They won’t get involved. There’s only me, I have to stop whoever is doing this, because carelessly messing with time and, and--” _Bad Wolf and Rose are involved in this,_ unable to get those words past his lips, he continued, “Before, I mentioned that the whole universe could be in danger. I meant that. Until I know for certain who is doing this and why, and for what, I can’t just run and ignore it.”

Martha looked away, silent for a moment. She let out of huff and her grip on the watch loosened. She smiled back at him, holding out the watch for him to take. “Where are we off to next then?”

He plucked it from her hand. “The Grand Yur Emporium of Musken, the only place that sells high end bazoolium merchandise.” He yanked on a large lever.

~~~vVv~~~

The TARDIS landed neatly inside a small alcove in the back halls of the Emporium, rarely travelled except by workers or officials. The Doctor led Martha into the main room, which spread out in winding aisles filled with kiosks, shops, carts, and restaurants, similar to Earth shopping centers. The open roof let the light of the sky shower down into the building, casting the white walls into a sparkling relief.

The Doctor knew beforehand that the Emporium would be near empty this time of year for Musken. Usually it would be packed enough that bumping shoulders with others when moving through the aisles would be inevitable. Now there was plenty of arm room, leg room, as well as cartwheel room, if someone were so inclined. He sighed, exhaling some of the stress that had been piling up. The loss of life from another explosion, were one to occur, would be at minimum.

It didn’t take long to find the kiosk that sold the Bazoolium watch. An orange skinned sales woman greeted them with a wide smile that didn’t reach her four eyes. The Doctor persuaded her to give him the information on the buyer of the watch, which had been sold months ago. She tried to sell them the current watch on display, but he declined. She thanked them for shopping at Ninpin’s as they left.

Back in the TARDIS, he set their destination for the same place, but months prior, on the day the watch would be sold.

“So we’re looking for someone by the name of A.P.?” Martha asked as she clawed her way through the mass of people in the Emporium with a small oomph.

“It shouldn’t be hard to spot them, since I’ve landed us within the same hour the fob watch was bought,” he said peevishly, shouldering his way through the sea of shoppers. He had run out of luck in his hopes to keep people safe. A.P. bought the watch during the busiest sales period.

“We’ve solved the case pretty easily at least. Once we capture this A.P. person we can stop him from bombing that town and save all those people.”

“Well, A.P. could be anyone; they may have sold the watch to someone since they bought it. And those bombings already took place; we can’t stop them from happening, since it’s what led us here.” The Doctor surveyed the surroundings, his body coiled tightly, waiting to spring at the first sign of trouble. “We still need to be careful, if I’m being watched –” The space around him turned rigid and his sense of time halted, and he recognized the familiar prickle that had become an alarm. He turned in a circle, desperate to find the source.

Drowned out by his concentration, Martha’s concerned voice faded into obscurity. He froze when he saw Ninpin’s kiosk occupied by a customer in a brown jacket, black trousers, and long blond hair. He looked familiar, but the Doctor couldn’t place from where.

“Martha, look, at the kiosk, that person there,” he pointed to the man in the brown jacket, “do you recognize him?”

“No, never seen him before. Do you think that’s A.P.?” Martha asked.

“I’m going to hazard a guess and say yes.” He took a peek at Martha from the corner of his eyes, wondering if he should tell her to go back to the TARDIS. He looked ahead. “It’s now or never.”

“No one move!” someone yelled in a frantic voice.

The Doctor snapped his attention to the person who yelled. His eyes widened at the sight a few meters away. The same man, in the brown jacket, black trousers, and long blond hair, stood in the center of the aisle, clutching another man in his arms who struggled to get free, and attached to the blond man’s chest a vest of bombs clung threateningly.

“If anyone moves, I’ll detonate!” the blond man yelled again.

The people surrounding the man and his hostage backed away and remained motionless right after, a few gasped and cried out, their attention centered on the unfolding events.

“It’s the same man! Doctor!” Martha yelped, pulling on his sleeve.

The Doctor looked back at the kiosk and the younger version of the man in the brown jacket had gone. The watch, which had been on display, had also vanished. He could try to run after the younger version, track him down, and risk everyone around him, or he could face the version of the man wearing a bomb vest and holding a person against their will. There wasn’t any choice.

“Let him go!” the Doctor bellowed, staying stock-still.

“Not a chance!” The blond replied, breathless from trying to keep the other man in his arms.

“A.P. I take it? You don’t have to do this, just tell me what you want and maybe we can work something out.”

“You the Time Lord called the Doctor?”

“Yes.”

“It’s obvious what I want, isn’t it, by now?” he tightened his hold on the hostage, wiping away the sweat on his forehead with the hand that clumsily held the detonator, “You for the plunker in my arms.”

“Don’t do it, you can’t trust him,” Martha whispered, leaning closer.

“I know,” the Doctor replied.

“Doctor?” Martha peered up at him, but his eyes remained fixated on A.P.

The Doctor shouted, “Alright, you got a deal!” he put his hands in his pockets and lifted an eyebrow, “I take it your ‘don’t move’ request is retracted, at least for me?”

“Of course, you idiot, get over here.”

He tilted his head back and narrowed his eyes, knowing very well that going to A.P. meant his death. He hoped not—he was confident enough that he could talk this A.P. out of killing him and _possibly_ endangering the universe. He still hadn’t figured out if his death really meant universal danger. No, he shouldn’t concentrate on possibilities. Right now he had to make sure the people around him were safe. He’d figure the rest out later. But he couldn’t move. He inhaled sharply as he saw Rose appear from behind A.P., staying at the bombers left shoulder. She smirked at the Doctor, waving a finger back and forth, like she was berating him for being foolish.

She winked and then the Emporium filled with resounding metallic shrieks.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by the lovely Kilodalton! :D

The panicked murmurs of the shoppers surrounding the Doctor, Martha, and A.P. were drowned out by the ear splitting noise of the Emporium alarm. Purple electrical currents shot out of the walls, netting together to form a layer that covered the floor. The Doctor peered down at the current circling his ankles and licking up his leg. It caused no pain, only held him in place. With burning eyes, he looked back to Rose as she walked, unhindered by the electrical bindings, into the crowd, away from A.P., and disappeared. 

He gazed over the heads of the people, blinking a few times to clear the water from his vision. Not even a few hours ago he had blinked and Rose disappeared from right in front of him. Now she could ignore security measures, something that should be impossible. Teleports couldn’t give her this ability, unless she was only an image. But an image sent through a receiver would flicker with any interference and these bindings counted as interference.

This was something else entirely. When Rose appeared she cast shadows, she didn’t flicker, or appear translucent. He could smell traces of her perfume. He could sense her nearby. And she could come and go with ease, disappear at will, and she never stayed, never talked. 

The Doctor’s attention riveted back to A.P. as the mad man, with brows and lips curved down in rage, threw his hostage to the ground. A.P. pulled back his sleeve, revealing a Time Vortex Manipulator. With his fingers still curled around the detonator, he extended a finger and pushed a button on the leather-encased time device. A second later he disappeared in a quick flash of white light. 

“He shouldn’t be able to do that!” Martha said, tugging her legs unsuccessfully from the bindings...

He glanced around, noticing for the first time a sign on the wall. The sign gave notice about their security system, which had picked up the dangerous materials in the bombs on A.P.’s chest and had set off their anti-terrorism alarm. The Doctor sighed at the fine print. The system should disengage soon and they could continue on. 

“Doctor? What is this?” Martha inquired, her voice but a distant echo as he scanned the crowd, looking for blonde but only seeing browns, blacks, greens, and purples. He doubted he would find anything else. 

The purple current disappeared with a zap and the Doctor relaxed, turning to Martha, leaning forward and down to make direct eye contact. She shook herself, looking relieved to be free.

“Martha, did you see anyone standing behind A.P.?”

“What do you mean—the other shoppers or someone closer?”

“Closer, a…a woman with blonde hair?” His heart jumped, recalling how Rose leaned her head on his chest sometimes after hugs, her hair under his chin, smelling of whatever shampoo she used that day, the TARDIS, and peroxide. Uniquely Rose. 

“No,” she said slowly, like she thought he might have gone off the deep end. He wasn’t sure he hadn’t.

The worried babbling of the people around them grew loud. “We need to go, back to the TARDIS. Security will be here any moment.”

Scouting the area and the people nearby one last time, silently urging Rose to appear and seeing only the same faces and colors he saw before, he steered Martha back to his time and space ship.

Once they were inside the choral walls of the TARDIS, the Doctor mindlessly tapped and flicked buttons on the console. He needed to pilot the ship to their next destination, but he kept looking past the controls of his ship, seeing without seeing. _Forever_ Rose had promised—she would be with him forever. 

_“No matter what happens Doctor, I’ll never leave you,” she said right after, her smile never leaving her face._

_He let the joy of the impossible promise warm his hearts. He held out his hand, wiggling his fingers like he often did when he was impatient for her hand to be in his. She took it and he pulled her to his side._

_“Do you want to meet them?” He nodded to the Aboilyms, which probably looked to her like flying stingrays._

_“I’d love to! Will it be alright?” She bounced slightly, her voice full of excitement._

_“Of course! They’re really quite friendly, so friendly in fact the whole system has a prevalent legend surrounding them.”_

_“Yeah? What about?”_

_“The legend says when someone has lost their way the Aboilyms will guide them home. They will sprout from your soul and lead you to safety.”_

_She gazed at him then, her eyes drifting to his lips. His fingers itched to stroke her cheek and caress her skin. Her life, short and fast, would fade from his too soon, regardless of her promise. The burdened he carried, the duty he had taken on as the last, stayed his hand. He couldn’t give – he let the thought die. Instead, he tugged her along to meet the Aboilyms._

When she had jumped back from Pete’s World after he had sent her away and told him, with such absolute certainty, that she would never leave him, he couldn’t force her to return to her mother. He let himself believe in that moment, to be fooled, into thinking that she would be with him forever, that she would somehow always find a way to be with him. When reality crashed in around him and she became trapped in another universe, he realized his mistake, giving in to false hope only lead to bigger heartbreak. 

Now Rose kept appearing, his Aboilym, leading him to safety. Was that what her image was?

He heard someone sigh heavily. Turning in the direction of the sound he found Martha leaning on the console next to him, looking her feet. Her lips were pursued and brows drawn tightly together in exasperation. 

“What?” he asked.

“What are we gonna do now?” she asked glumly. 

“Ah.”

She crossed her arms and glared at him, very reminiscent of her mother. She stayed silent for a few moments, and then let her arms fall. But her glare remained. “What _are_ we gonna do? We’ve lost our last lead,” she said bitingly.  

He clenched his teeth as he keyed in their next destination. Taking a deep, steady breath, he dashed to the other side of the console. “We’re going to Cardiff!”

“Cardiff?”

“Yup!” He shoved his hands into his pockets, tilting his head up to look down at Martha. “Remember A.P. disappeared in a burst of light? He had a device on him that only Time Agents from the fifty first century wear, or are allowed to wear. So, we need to see a Time Agent and lucky for us, I know of one. And before you ask: Time Agents are individuals who mess with time, trying to be secret about it but tend to make a mess of things.”

“And this Time Agent is in Cardiff?” Martha asked in disbelief.

“I’ve been keeping an eye, well, two eyes, on him since we last met.”

“He’s dangerous then?” 

“Oh, no, not at all, erm, well, I suppose he can be, but in this case, nah!”

The TARDIS landed hard, causing them both to sway on their feet before steadying out. The Doctor bounded over to the doors, wiggling his fingers to keep moving. He couldn’t stop his stomach doing flips the closer he got to the man he left behind. A wrong man that shouldn’t be alive, a person whose life he had a direct hand in destroying. 

“Here we are then!” 

They walked out of the TARDIS and into a large open area made of bricks and concrete. To the right a large silver column sat with water flowing along its sides. To the left a white room descended further below the ground. And in front of them a group of desks with computers sat empty and a door to an office stood open. In its archway Jack Harkness gaped at them with wide eyes.

“Doctor,” Jack said.

“Captain,” the Doctor replied, shoving his hands in his pockets and carefully stepping closer to Jack.

“Long time no see. It’s nice of you to finally show your face, though it’s looking like you got a bit of work done.”

“Oh, right, the regeneration. How’d you know it’s me?”

Jack glanced behind him. “The TARDIS gives it away, plus,” Jack’s focus came back to his, “I’ve been keeping an eye on you.”

“So have I,” he said tonelessly.

“You abandoned me,” Jack accused. 

“Did I? Well, busy life, moving on, that sort of thing. No need to keep you, I’m sure you’re just as busy. I stopped by for a bit of information.”

Jack leaned back, putting his hands in his pockets, mimicking the Doctor. “Is that right, just coming by to pump me for my knowledge?”

The Doctor held back a frustrated sigh and turned his head away, “Now don’t start. I need important information that is possibly vital to the safety of the universe and you want to have a go at me?” 

Jack whipped his attention over to Martha, his face softening as he extended his hand to her. “Hello, who is this?”

“Stop it,” the Doctor warned, facing Jack.

“What? I’m just saying hello! Can’t I introduce myself?”

Martha beamed, “I don’t mind Doctor,” then turned and took Jack’s hand, shaking it. “Martha Jones.”

“Captain Jack Harkness, at your service,” Jack looked back at the Doctor, releasing Martha. “I just gotta ask, before you grill me for information and run off again, I saw the list of the dead from the Battle of Canary Wharf. It said Rose Tyler.”  

He forced a grin. “Oh, no, she’s…” but his face fell before he could finish. The last few images of Rose flashed in his mind and he staggered back, reeling at the new thought. These images could be signs that Rose is dead. That her essence had reached across universes to tell him the awful truth, with the help of Bad Wolf. “She’s not dead,” he spluttered out quickly, rejecting the thought.

“Then where is she?”

“Parallel universe. Anyway, let’s get to it, shall we? Have you heard of –” 

“Oh, yes!” Jack jumped into the Doctor arms, holding him in a strong embrace. 

Frowning, the Doctor pushed him away, the unease the man caused as a walking fixed point in time made his skin crawl. 

“Wait, parallel universe, are you serious?” Remaining close, Jack’s smile faded.  

Needing space from both Jack and the emerging thoughts of Rose’s possible death that wouldn’t leave him, the Doctor backed away towards the TARDIS. “Yes, parallel universe. Now, have you or have you not heard of a Time Agent that goes by the initials A.P.? Or know of any stolen Time Vortex Manipulators?”

Jack stood silently, his eyes roaming over the Doctor. “You want to know about other Time Agents and all our dirty underwear?” 

“Yes, specifically ones with the initials A.P.” The Doctor tapped his foot, a nagging impatience to get back into the TARDIS setting his nerves on fire.

Jack glimpsed at the foot then quirked a brow. “I’d need access to the Time Agency’s records, which I don’t have and don’t plan on having, ever, to give you precise information. But I might know a thing or two. Do you have a description or something else to go by?” 

Martha clasped her hands together in front of her and then caught Jack’s eyes. “He wore a brown jacket, had long blond hair, he seemed a bit seedy, and wore bombs on his chest. Does that help?”

Jacked smiled at Martha and took a step in her direction. “Thanks, but no, that really doesn’t help. Never heard of a Time Agent _looking_ like that, and believe me, I’d know,” Jack winked, his smile transforming into a leer.

The Doctor scrutinized Jack, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head down as he studied his old companion.  “Jack,” he admonished. 

Jack puffed up his chest then deflated quickly, sauntering over to the nearest chair and dropping down into it. He perched his feet on the nearest desk and leaned back, with his hands folded neatly in front of him. “I can see you’re not in the talking mood today, so I’ll put you out of your misery. I heard a rumor about a Time Agent that went rogue years before I even thought to join the Agency. He used to work as a demolition man,” Jack paused, letting out a sigh, “The man’s name was Alfred Phoenix and he had a hell of record. Unfortunately I’ve never had the chance to meet him. Or see what he looks like.”

The Doctor gave Jack a salute. “I think we’ve heard enough. We’ll get the rest at the Agency.” He nodded to Martha. “Come on.”

He turned his back to Jack, lingering only to make sure Martha made her way to the TARDIS first.

He couldn’t shake the thought and possibility that Rose could be dead. That his recent visions of her were from beyond her grave, beyond everything he could know. Being able to sense Rose, for her to seem real, must be because somehow she is coming from him, through his connection to her in some way.

 His hands clenched and unclenched, the unease of his stomach now a torrent of ominous anticipation. A searing pain ate at his chest, devouring his hearts. His feet urged him to move faster, his legs filled with nervous energy.  The room grew smaller and he began to use his respiratory bypass system to control his breathing. Walking to the TARDIS took too long, the closer he got the farther she felt. 

At the threshold of his ship he heard Jack.

“Wait, Doc!” Jack rushed up behind him. “Will I ever see you again?” His voice held a hint of hope, of a plea and a request.

Those words crushed his hearts, reminding him of a beach and tears that he couldn’t wipe away. The Doctor didn’t turn to look at Jack, to see his face or acknowledge his question. He straightened his back, gripping the door of the TARDIS. He withdrew into his ship and shut the door, leaving Jack behind without an answer.

He immediately headed to the console, head down, as memories of Rose flooded his thoughts. He had not run into the words Bad Wolf, the signal that came from Rose, since he read them on that piece of shrapnel. That had to mean something. Perhaps the universe wasn’t in danger; perhaps it had only been Rose. Perhaps she was really dead, killed because she met him, because he trapped her in another universe, forced her to work at Torchwood because she wasn’t with him and now he could no longer protect her.

That’s what he did, he got people killed. In saving everyone, he endangered everyone. His first mistake was meddling when he shouldn’t, only coming from a desire to fix things, to help. Instead now here he was, thinking about the woman he…lifeless and blooded on the ground because he entered her life and failed to protect her.

His eyes ranked over Martha. He is dragging her on a goose chase that will most likely get her killed, because Alfred Phoenix wants him dead. Perhaps the Doctor’s death would be a good thing. Perhaps it was time.

Would Martha be there to witness his death? Could he do that to her? There were bags under her eyes, her body tense, and she waited, with her lips a hard line, a clear exhaustion and annoyance set in her eyes. He’d been so wrapped up in his own thoughts on Rose he barely even registered Martha.

How could he do this to people he cared about? Guilt gnawed at every part of his body, leaving him empty and cold. Jack he had doomed to a never ending life, Rose trapped and possibly dead, and now Martha was being torn apart by this inevitable revenge strategy against the last of a people who grew too corrupt to be allowed to live. This was the meaning of destiny, his destiny.

And he would not let Martha be another victim of his life, of the bad choices he has made over the centuries.

 He pulled the lever that sent them into the Time Vortex, the decision he had to make now clear to him. “I’m taking you home.”

The Doctor looked up from the controls to meet her eyes and watched the wheels turn as Martha slowly came to understand his meaning. “You mean for good?” Her brows drooped, shoulders slumping as the hurt poured out of her. 

“Yes,” he replied flatly.

“Why, I thought you needed help? I thought you needed me!”

“No, I can do this on my own. Mr. Phoenix is only after me, not you. Your mother was right, it’s better for you there.” He swallowed the panic that threatened to rise as his imagination ran away from him, picturing Rose calling for him, without a face, stuck in a drawing, captured by the devil, and unable to save her. Thousands of different deaths, thousands of ways he failed her. 

 “How so?”

He paced around the console, breathing rapidly, whirling on Martha when he could no longer keep his panic and fear contained. “Because Rose is dead!”

Martha froze, her jaw slackened. “But you said –”

The Doctor laughed mechanically, shaking his head. “Oh, I know what I said, but it’s the only thing that makes sense! She’s appearing, out of nowhere, tempting and torturing me because I can’t have her, because she disappears after I’m safe!  Because she’s not really there and that’s impossible! I’ve killed her!” He saw the shrapnel with the words Bad Wolf taunting him, lying undisturbed on the console. He grabbed it, squeezing it hard enough to make him bleed and then threw it at the closest coral strut. It shattered on impact.

Martha hadn’t moved from where she stood and he could sense her eyes following his every move. He yanked on the monitor, pulling it before him, typing in coordinates and dates as fast as his mind could process the information. He pressed buttons and twisted knobs with drive, ready to drop off his companion and bring her to safety, permanently.

The TARDIS landed with a gentle pitch. Staring at his chucks, he placed his hands under his armpits, thumbs up, and waited. 

After a few minutes he heard the sound of the doors opening and closing. There were no other sounds after that other than his ship, softly humming and singing as she normally did, either to soothe or reassure, he doesn’t know.

The Doctor wiped the blood from his hand on his suit and fell to the jump seat, ignoring the tears as they slid down his face.

~~~vVv~~~

Alone on the street in front of her family’s home, Martha watched the TARDIS disappear. Her chest ached once the street no longer held even the faintest trace of the time ship. Martha dug into her pocket and took out the TARDIS key, holding it to her tightly. She glanced back to where the TARDIS once stood only moments ago and her heart hardened. 

It had been almost five hours since he picked her up from her home and dropped her back here. In those five hours he’d ignored her, been completely aloof, and disregarded her and her concerns. It was like a switch had turned on and he had gone from being slightly mean at times to downright overly rude. How could he do this to her after everything they had been through, after telling her he needed her? She was the only friend he had. Someone was trying to kill him and now he was all alone. Something wasn’t right. She would take matters into her own hands. He’d gone mad with grief and she wasn’t going to let him fight this alone even if he was going to make her leave. She wouldn’t abandon him now no matter what he said he wanted.

Martha looked at the front door of her home, warm and bright, ready to shelter her and then turned her gaze down the road. A taxi drove by right then and Martha threw out her arm, yelling at the yellow car. She chased it down until it stopped. Inside the taxi, she pulled out her wallet to check that she had her credit cards on her and then told the driver to take her to Cardiff.

The driver gave her a pointed look but said nothing. He drove without complaint.

Hours later Martha wandered around Roald Dahl Plass, searching for an entrance to Torchwood. She circled the fountain, the same silver mirrored column she saw inside the office. Not finding an entrance, she strained to see another way in, when she heard a familiar voice.

“What have we here, a gorgeous lady looking for a date?” Jack said light and playful.

“Jack!” She rushed over to the Time Agent, noting he stood on a square cement block.

“Where’s the Doctor?” he inquired.

“He dropped me off, saying it was too dangerous to take me along.”

“Where is he going?”

“I don’t know,” she closed the distance between them, her brows knitting up in concern, “Jack, was Rose blonde?”

“Yeah, not a natural but pulled it off very nicely. Why, thinking of becoming one yourself?”

She worried her bottom lip, unsure how Jack would react to this news. “She’s dead, I think.”

“What? Dead? He said she wasn’t!”

“I know! But after we left you he went off, going on about killing her.”

“Killing her? He wouldn’t.”

“He’s been acting weird recently, I think he’s been seeing her, maybe hallucinating or…I’m not sure.”

“Let’s get inside and then you can tell me the whole story.”

Jack wrapped his arms around her and she allowed it, feeling that she could trust him. The cement block jolted then descended. The Torchwood office slowly came into view below her. The first odd thing she noticed was a hand in a jar near the exit, bubbling in its corner. Her attention was pulled to the man typing away at a computer on his desk, her thoughts drifting to her cousin who had died during the Battle of Canary Wharf. She squeezed Jack, concern crawling up her throat.

Jack took her to his office and shut the door, where Martha regaled to him the entire tale of the last day. He offered her a chair and water once she finished, then sat on the edge of his desk, arms folded, regarding her seriously.

“That Time Agent I told you about might be after the Doctor? I didn’t think someone so… inconsequential and ordinary could go toe to toe with the good old Doc.”

“He’s been watching the Doctor, deciding what to do only after the Doctor does something. He’s been a step ahead of us every time we go to gather information.” 

“So what’s our next plan of action?”

“I’ve left my phone in the TARDIS, in his coat pocket, put in there as I was leaving, he didn’t even notice. I’m hoping we can track him.” She took a sip of her water and then met Jack’s eyes. “He…I think he’s going to do something stupid and get himself killed. He needs us, Jack. I really think he does.”

“You maybe, he made it clear he wants nothing to do with me.” Jack pushed off his desk and opened the door to his office in one swift movement. Martha followed him, staying on his heels.

Jack stopped where the only other person in the office sat hunched over his keyboard. “Owen, my good man, do a search for me about those recent bombings.”

“Only ‘cause you asked so nicely,” Owen responded sarcastically. His fingers danced over the keys, different windows popping up all over his computer screen.

Martha placed a hand on Jack’s arm. “So you’ll help?”

“Of course, it’s the Doctor.” He met her stare. The tenderness in his expression told her all she needed to know, he felt the same as she did when it came to the Time Lord. “Besides, there’s something I still need to ask him.”

“Search done, now what did you want to know about those bombings??” Owen asked, boredom lining his voice, before Martha could question Jack on what he meant.

Jack placed his hand on Owen’s desk, leaning closer to the monitor. “Where are they keeping the rest of the bomb fragments they’ve recovered? We should still be able to get more information out of them that can help us track either the Doctor or Mr. Phoenix.”

“Old police warehouse, I’ve got the blue prints and address right here.” Owen turned in his chair, looking up at Jack. “I’ve also got information about recent incidents involving those same fragments.”

“Tell me,” Jack commanded. 

“Ghost stories more like, some of the fragments have been glowing or hovering in the air.”

“Why haven’t we’ve investigated this before?”

“Just got the information today,” Owen grabbed his keyboard, setting it on his lap, hitting a few keys, “And to add this little bizarre case, internet reports of something in the sky are flooding the usual UFO blogs.”

“You think that’s important? Or even relevant?” Martha asked.

“Everything counts sweetheart,” Owen said.

“I’m not your sweetheart,” Martha bit back at Owen.

Jack grinned at Martha. “If you ever get tired of running with the Doc, you know where to find me. You’d fit right in here.”

She smiled at him. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Martha nodded once, already feeling closer to the Doctor.  “First the warehouse then we can look into the sightings? We’ve got to find something useful.”

“Sounds like a plan!” Jack faced Owen, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Martha will give you her phone number, I want you to track it and let me know immediately once you get a hit.”

“And don’t even think about keeping the number for yourself.” Martha took a pen from the mess on Owen’s desk and jotted down her number.

“Pity.” Owen shrugged, looking completely disinterested. He typed in her number with flourish, “Done, tracking the bloody number now.”

“Between that, our little search, and the good old hand,” Jack nodded to the hand in the jar, “I think we’ll be able to find the Doctor easy.”

“The hand? You mean that one there?” She pointed to the jar near the exit, bubbling purposefully. 

“The one and only spare Doctor hand.”

“That’s the Doctor’s? But he still has two!” She exclaimed. 

“Yeah, he lost that one a while ago, been saving it for him. Maybe I’ll get another chance to give it to him.” Jack grinned cheekily, “Shall we? I’ll tell you all about the hand on the way.” He held out his arm like a gentleman and she gingerly took it with a smile on her face.

The computer beeped on an interval, echoing off the brick walls of the Torchwood hub, tracking the Doctor, as Jack and Martha made their way out.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by the lovely Kilodalton!
> 
> Also, just to let everyone know, and in no way spoils the story, there are no character deaths contained in Chasing Ghosts.

The blue TARDIS door opened with a loud, cringe-worthy creak. The Doctor stepped out, his hands securely in his pockets, and squinted at the building in front of him. The tower—the central seat of the Time Agency—rose high, with steel columns, thick black glass, and was topped off with a broken pediment in the shape of an A. In the backdrop the sky’s atmosphere stood open and clear to the stars. A grey fog clung to the ground, leaving the area muted from color.

He had parked the TARDIS behind a large black rock, safe from perceptive eyes. He caressed the wood of his ship before nodding and leaving her side.

The Doctor made his way towards his destination, the records department, passing through the lobby, absently flashing his psychic paper to the guards in order to use the teleport. Tapping the device, he zapped to the floor where he needed to be. The Doctor calmly walked over to a man behind a desk, with a door leading into a larger room behind him.

“Hello!” The Doctor announced cheerily.

“Yes?” The man answered, boredom seeping through each syllable.

“I’m looking for some information on an agent,” he scrunched up his nose, “a controversial one at that. Went rogue years back. My boss needs me to see if I can do some calculations on preventing future infractions like his.”

The man sighed. “ID?”

The Doctor pulled out his physic paper and the man hardly glanced twice at it.

“Name of Agent?”

“Alfred Phoenix.” The Doctor lifted his chin, posed to present himself as confident and casual as possible.

At the name the man looked up with a start, narrowed his eyes and gave the Doctor a long and lingering stare. “What department do you work for?” he asked suspiciously.

“Public Relations. Well, sub division of Public Relations, it’s new.”

“Rii-ght.” The man stood with a raised eyebrow and then went through items on his desk. He picked up an ID card and then indicated the door behind him with a point of his thumb. “I have to check with the uppers. Wait here.”

Alone in the room, the Doctor observed the area around him. To the right of the desk a singular, dark hallway, with a blinking light, lead off deeper into the floor. The rest of the room was bare, no other furniture sat to accompany the desk. The walls were empty, not even a window, which caused the area to feel more like a stifling cage than a place of work.

The hairs on his skin stood straight and he felt the change in the flow of time, slowing down to an immobile mass. Mr. Phoenix must have made an appearance. The building and the people in it were in danger and he either needed to leave or find his nemesis quickly.  

The Doctor glanced from the door to the hallway to the teleport, pondering which direction to go. His bottom lip dropped slightly and he breathed in from his mouth. He shouldn’t fear death. Not when he had it coming.

The lights of the hallway blinked at an interval, a very specific interval. The same interval used by Torchwood to open the Void at Canary Wharf. The same one he used to close it and trap Rose in a parallel world.

Without hesitation he went into the hallway, but immediately the lights stopped blinking and left him shrouded in darkness. The pinpoint light from the previous room was his only guidance as he walked further down the passage.

He rounded corners, passed other doors, following an unknown route. The faint light of the room with the desk extinguished as he turned another corner. He took out his sonic screwdriver and clicked on the light setting, the buzz from his tool loud in the otherwise silent hall. The lights turned on without warning and right in front of the Doctor Alfred Phoenix stood with his legs apart, glaring at him like a predator to his prey.

The Doctor took one step back. “Alfred Phoenix.”

“Doctor.”

Before the Doctor could say anything else, the lights went out again. The Doctor remained motionless, ready for some blow to his person. Instead he heard the opening and closing of a heavy door.

The Doctor understood the unspoken command. Alfred Phoenix wanted the Doctor to follow him.

It was a trap; he knew that, all the signs were there, the lights, the door, and the hallway. But he had to go forward. Following the rogue Time Agent led him to a stairwell. The Doctor descended the steps, trusting his instincts to narrow the distance between him and the other man.

The stairwell went on further than the Doctor expected, leading far below the ground. The end of the stairs transitioned into a pitch black room where every noise bounced and echoed.

He walked until he was surrounded by the darkness. He stood still, listening to faint sounds of water dropping from a faucet. Seconds passed and nothing happened. Then a light grew a few meters away. It was a torch, held securely in hand by Mr. Phoenix. Nothing else came into view, except the smirk on the bomber’s face.

“You’ve had this coming for a long time now.” Alfred shook his head. “If you hadn’t run away, been a coward, like I know you are, than things would have been much simpler.”

“I know.”

Alfred screwed up his face, flush with anger. “What do you know? That you had it coming, that you’re a coward, that your running caused more people to be involved?”

The Doctor looked down before meeting Alfred’s glare. “All of the above?”

“Is this a joke?”

“No, it’s not. And there’s no need for others to be involved now. I’m here, willingly.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s too late Doctor.”

His chest constricted, a rolling panic seizing his hearts. “I’m here, giving myself freely to you! You don’t have to drag anyone else into this!” He held back a full shout.

Alfred clenched his jaw, and spoke through his teeth. “What you did to me and to others like me, no, you don’t get to make demands. Death should be a gift, a joyful thing Doctor. But you have to suffer first.”

“I will agree with you that perhaps it’s time for me, I’ve lived long enough, but others don’t have to suffer for my crimes, for what I did to you!”

“Do you know what you did to me?” Alfred asked with thunderous calm.

The Doctor remained silent, unable to answer. He didn’t know. It could have been any number of things through out almost a thousand years of meddling.

“You don’t, do you? You don’t even know who I am. I’m just a bug, or worm, some little slug leaving slime trails for you to follow.” Alfred made to step forward, but stopped himself, his arms shaking with restraint. “Have you ever lost someone, Doctor? Someone you loved?”

He took in a deep breath; his first thought falling on Rose, though the faces of all the people he loved and lost soon followed. “Yes.”

“Really? Who?”

“You will not bring her into this.”

“Her? A woman? A lover? Well, that’s a start.” Alfred’s eyes shone with tears and he looked up, keeping his focus upward rather than on the Doctor. “I lost my soulmate because of you, because of what you did in pre-TA year 2006, Earth, London. She was there beside me, and then she wasn’t, because you opened the doors of reality and it pulled her in!” He glanced back at the Doctor, his eyes dry, his brows tightly knitted together, furious anger aimed in his direction. “We had it all planned, there was chaos in the city on that day, a war zone ripe for cleansing! But how could I continue without her? And when I went back in time, over and over again, to try to figure out how she just vanished with the rest of the chaos, I found you.”

“Alfred,” he lowered his voice threateningly, “you don’t have to do whatever it is you’re planning. End it with my death.”

Alfred let out a throaty chuckle. “I noticed you love Earth. So you’ll lose her. Die with the knowledge that your most beloved is next.”

Never taking his eyes off the Doctor, Alfred pushed back his sleeve and pressed a button on his Time Vortex Manipulator, vanishing in a zap of light. In his place a small device sat, counting down from the number ten in bright, red digits. Lights overhead turned on, revealing aisle after aisle of meter high bombs. The Doctor was surrounded and had no time to run or protect himself.

He closed his eyes. He wouldn’t dwell on the people in the building, he wouldn’t dwell on Earth. There was still Jack, he had to trust that Jack would take over for him and stop Alfred.

The Doctor concentrated on the image of Rose, on her smile and her laughter, those were good last thoughts.

Warmth hit his cheeks and a golden light lit up his eyelids. He opened his eyes and saw Rose standing before him, wearing her pink hoodie and black jeans.

“Rose.”

“Stupid of you to come here,” she said with a small smile.

“You can’t be here.”

“That’s obvious, innit?”

“Please!”

One by one the bombs exploded, starting from the furthest and coming closer and closer. With each group detonating, the flames and impact grew higher, stacking on the other. The Doctor could feel the heat singeing his skin.

He tried to close the space between him and Rose but an invisible barrier stopped him.

“What? Rose?”

She closed her eyes and looked down, shaking her head.

“Rose?” He pleaded, his voice breaking.

She held up a hand, flipped her hair over her shoulder and lifted her chin, gazing at him. He mirrored her, placing his palm against her palm, the protective barrier the only thing keeping them from touching.

The fire wall raced towards them but the Doctor no longer felt the foreign heat. He had been encased in a bubble that would keep him safe. Rose on the other hand, stood outside. The flames moved fast enough that they soon overtook her, forcing her body to press hard against the barrier.

“Rose!” He shouted, knowing it would do nothing but desperately hoping for a miracle.

She burst into golden dust, floating on the waves of the flames that were molding around the barrier, unable to get in.

He fell to his knees, staring at the floor that the barrier protected; not willing to look at what was going on around him.

Voices from the past filled his ears.

_“You put away the dress?”_

_“Yup, right where I found it.” Rose sat on the jump seat, watching him as he fiddled with the console. “You do this often then, have people dress up? Saw so many outfits back there.”_

_“Only when necessary, so as not to scandalize the general population of the time period. I thought we’ve been through this?”_

_“And you don’t ever change?”_

_“Like I said, I changed my jumper!”_

_She smirked. “Right, of course,” she said, her voice boarding on playful sarcasm._

_He walked around the time rotor once, biting his tongue to keep from replying. An awkward silence took up the space between them and he turned to Rose with a pointed look. “What? Go on, spill it, I know you want to ask me something.”_

_Rose picked at her nails for a moment, opening her mouth, closing it, and then chewed on her cracked bottom lip. “It’s just the Gelth, are all ghosts aliens like them?”_

_He leaned against the console, folding his arms, his leather jacket creaking. “That depends. What do you consider a ghost?”_

_“I don’t know, I suppose, what’s left over after a person dies?”_

_“Ah. Then that’s a whole other story. And I know you don’t mean other philological debates, so I’ll get right to what you want. Technically the only thing left after death is the energy the body had produced, that energy goes back into the universe, zip, disperses into other forms of energy, the circle of life, rather boring. Why’d you bring this up?”_

_Her eyes followed the curve of the inside of the TARDIS, her brows drawn down in concern. “Is there a way for someone to be with someone even after death?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“How?”_

_“You don’t need to know.”_

_“Why not?”_

_“Because I said so.”_

_“And you’re not the boss of me, so spill or I’ll find out myself.”_

_He sighed and ducked his head. “Alright, but this doesn’t leave the TARDIS, understood?”_

_“Yeah.”_

_He straightened his back and settled down on the console. “Someone’s consciousness can be preserved if they bond or form an attachment to another greater life form. And not just any greater life form. It would have to be one of about five in the known universe. It’s not any form of life, just preservation. But it’s possible and the best way to keep the consciousness as whole as possible. There are other ways, trickier and more dangerous ways, that deteriorate the original person’s consciousness into something other and sinister. Mechanical transfers, biological transfers, retrograde cell growth and mutations, all ways to selfishly keep a person with someone else. It’s not like living on another plane of existence.”_

_“So it’s not something that just happens? It has to be a choice they make before they die?”_

_“Planned and prepared for, yes.”_

_“Oh,” she breathed out her reply._

_He watched as she looked down to her feet. She twirled her ankle, leaning forward on the edge of her seat. He wondered where her mind had taken her. Did she need this information for something, or was this wishful thinking on her part? He supposed it didn’t matter. Her drooping shoulders and her single minded focus on her shoes had him grabbing a nearby lever with a grin._

_“Where do you want to go now? We’ve been forward and backward in time, ready for something a little different?”_

The crunch of burning metal and wood brought him back to the present. A gaping hole in the ceiling let various items from the Time Agency building spill through, piling around him much like an hourglass. Screams from falling victims were muted by the sound of the fire. He could do nothing but wait.

The memory choked him when the smoke outside his bubble could not. Rose was dead, she was gone. She had burst into a cloud of golden mist; she was only a phantom. She was a hallucination brought forth from his mind, nothing more. Any hope that she might still be alive vanished.

 And he was letting this phantom control him. Memories of Rose were clouding his head, she was gone, he had to let go. He had to move on. He had to concentrate and stop Alfred Phoenix before he did any more damage!

But how was she such a powerful ghost? Was this what the message from Bad Wolf meant? How could something from his mind conjure something to protect him? Did he put something in his pockets without knowing, had he sleepwalked? 

He dug into every pocket on him, finding nothing that could explain the bubble. He stared absently at his empty hands.

She had spoken to him, sounding like she ever did, joked even. Her ghost couldn’t be here! There was nothing, nothing that could travel between parallel worlds now that the Time Lords were dead.

Unless…

An old legend, from the ancient libraries on Gallifrey, once mentioned a naturally forming river, similar to a rift that connected all parallel worlds together, which was the power behind all Time Lord knowledge of parallel universes. But it was never found nor confirmed to actually exist, other than by word of mouth.

Shortly after he lost Rose, he had gone on a frantic search for that river; praying to every god he didn’t believe in that he would find it. After a month he gave up.

Perhaps her consciousness had found it? And he was one of those greater life forms she could attach herself to, though they never…

He swallowed, his mouth parched. He blinked and looked up. He watched the fire and the chaos devour everything around him, as he sat safe and unharmed in the center of the storm.

~~~vVv~~~

Martha stepped out of the taxi after Jack. He held out a hand to help her and she gladly accepted, straightening to fully view her surroundings. They’re had arrived at a deserted road, adorned with dead tall grass, a few kilometers from the city. The taxi took off; right after Jack paid the driver. Not far ahead a large flat facility fenced in and topped with barbed wire stood undisturbed.

“So that’s our destination then?” Martha asked.

Jack shoved his hands into his pockets as they walked together toward the warehouse. “Yup, oldest police warehouse around these parts. Probably the only place that would be willing to hold what we’re looking for, with ties to UNIT.”

“What’s UNIT?”

“United Nations Intelligence Task force, they’re on the other end of defending the Earth.”

“So they’re the good guys?”

“Mostly.” He flashed her a lopsided grin. “You should really come around again after we beat the bad guy and save the Doc. You missed meeting the whole team.”

“So it’s not just you and Owen working down there all by yourselves?” She hid her smile behind her hand.

“God no, we’d kill each other if that was the case, wouldn’t do either of us any good though. Gwen, Tosh, and Ianto, the rest of Torchwood, great people, are out on a mission in Wales, something about an alien pretending to be the winner of _Britain’s Got Talent_.”

“You mean Paul Potts?”

“The one and only. You watch the show?”

“I caught it on the telly between study groups, good way to unwind.”

“Or get wound up.” He winked and she looked away to blush.

The dead grass transformed to loose dirt, the same dirt that surrounded the warehouse. She glanced ahead and studied the facility. A main gate with a guard looked to be the only entrance, the rest blocked off by the fence. “How are we planning to get inside?”

“I could use my Torchwood credentials to get us in, though it’ll be a lot of paper work that would leave a trail a mile long.”

“We could sneak in; find a weak spot in their fence system.”

“You must be reading my mind.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“That and more.” Jack stopped and peered at the enclosure. “The ‘more’ part I can say to her.”

“Her who?”

Jack pointed to a hidden bend in the fence. “The red head in the corner, trying to cut her way in.”

“She might be after the same thing we are, if it’s all over the internet. Want to ask her?”

“Sure, let’s ask, but –”

“Keep our secrets to ourselves, that’s obvious.”

He beamed at her, sweeping his hand in front of him. “After you!”

They made their way down a slight slope, hidden behind a few dry bushes. As they approached, Martha could make out the details of the woman. She wore a suit, dirty around the ankles and cuffs, which hid some of her curves. The woman seemed to be at most ten years older than Martha. She didn’t hear them, so she fought with the fence without turning, trying to clip the links with her cutter.

“Need help with that?” Jack offered, taking the cutter from her hands, as she stood motionless from the interruption.

She grabbed the cutter right back from Jack. “No, thank you. I was just about finished, for your information.”

“What were you doing?” Martha smiled, trying to be friendly.

The red head looked between them both, reaching into her pockets. She quickly flashed an ID card, but Martha couldn’t see what it said. “Fence repair from t-the Fence repair department.”

Jack folded his arms and scrutinized her work. “Looks to me like you were destroying the fence instead of repairing it.”

“I’ll have you know that I know exactly what I’m doing. Sometimes things need to be destroyed to be fixed.” The red head worried the cuffs of her suit, shifting her from leg to leg compulsively.

“It’s alright,” Martha stepped forward, extending her hand, “I’m Martha Jones. We aren’t the authorities. I reckon we are here for the same reason you are.”

“Yeah, and that being?”

“You want to look at the bomb shrapnel, don’t you?” Jack supplied.

The red head looked between Martha and Jack, her eyes dashing back and forth. After a moment the woman slumped her shoulders, her brows eased, and she took Martha’s hand in a firm, but slight wet, grip. “Donna Noble. So you lot must be reporters then, looking for another story?”

Jack and Martha exchanged glances. Jack nodded, his lips curled down slightly in nonchalance. “You could say that. I’m Captain Jack Harkness, in case you’re wondering, which I’m sure you are, very nice to meet you.” He reached out to take her hand.

“Very nice.” Donna shook his hand vigorously, smiling wide, before dropping it. “Suppose it might be a good idea to team up, since we’re all after the same thing.” Donna flipped her hair back, lifting her chin, her voice full of false bravado.

Martha raised her brows, tucking her chin in, “So you _are_ after the pieces of the bombs, from the stories off the net?”

“Yeah, something like that, looking for a bloke who might be into things like this, figured he might be around.”

Jack’s smile stretched across his face quickly. “Trying to win the heart of a special someone?”

Donna screwed up her face in disgust. “No, absolutely not, thank you very much. He’s a skinny boy in a suit, pale as ghost with silly hair! Who in their right mind wears chucks with a suit?”

Martha stilled and glimpsed over to Jack out of the corner of her eyes. He had brought himself up to full height, back stiff. Martha tightened her lips before speaking. “The name of this bloke, do you know it?”

“Why? Doesn’t matter to you lot, does it?”

“We’re just curious, since we’ll be working together, to do something fairly illegal,” Jack said.

Donna turned to Jack, narrowing her eyes. “Suppose you’re right.” Donna rolled her eyes, “He calls himself the Doctor, though I’m fairly sure that’s just him being pompous.”

“When did you meet him?” Jack asked.

Donna huffed. “What is this, twenty questions?”

“Oh, no, we think we might know him, this bloke you call the Doctor,” Martha said.

“He’s the type that leaves an impression so I doubt you _might_ know him.” Donna folded her arms and scowled at Martha.

“Alright, we’ll give you that. If we do know him, if you found him, what would you do?” Jack’s fierce stare pulled Donna’s attention.

“Ask him if I could travel with him. He asked me once and I turned him down, biggest mistake of my life,” Donna replied without hesitation.

The three of them stood, facing each other in a holding pattern, no one speaking. Martha’s heart squeezed at the notion of the Doctor asking someone else to travel with him, either before or after her. She knew he had traveled with Rose, but how many other people traveled with him and how many of them did he treat like he had treated her? Donna obviously had a better experience, if she was looking for him again. But then, so was she. Martha shut her eyes against the pain in her chest and opened them to regard Jack and Donna in full. Jack tilted his head back, keeping his eyes on the red head. Donna had placed her hands on her hips.

“You aren’t reporters are you?” Donna asked.

“Not in the least,” Jack answered, swiftly plucking the cutter from Donna’s hand. She looked at him askew then shrugged. “I think we can help you find this Doctor. As they say, you scratch our backs,” he waved the cutters back and forth between them, “and we’ll scratch yours.”

“Oh, I’d be happy to scratch yours,” Donna preened.

Jack cleared his throat then spread his legs, facing the fence. “Here’s to the formation of our new team!” He clipped a link in the fence, the sharp snap of the wire renting the air.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by Kilodalton

The Doctor emerged from the smoking wreck that remained from the Time Agency building. The skin on his hands was torn and bloodied, though numb from any pain. Dirt stained his finger nails, clogging them. The rubble collapsed behind him, closing the path that he had treaded. Dirt and ash smeared his coat and suit; his hair clung to his forehead with sweat as black streaks stained his face.

His chest heaved; he didn’t want to use his respiratory bypass system. He wanted to take in the fresh, sharp air, feeling it stab down his throat and in his lungs. He stood tall, taking in the carnage around him. Soon the Shadow Proclamation would descend and sweep it all up. Tomorrow where he stood would show no signs that a building once stood here or that hundreds of people had been systematically murdered for revenge, to pile on his suffering and guilt.

That was what Alfred Phoenix said. He would make him suffer and that _this_ was his fault for simply not dying when Alfred wanted him to, because Alfred lost someone.

The Doctor had lost many people. He’d lost friends! Precious friends and family, which he could never replace, gone now on the ashes of the universe. Companions, though they may come and go over the years, always left their mark. And more recently, in his long list of loses, was Rose. This wasn’t the way to deal with grief or sorrow. Pain and loss were part of life! How one dealt with it determined the heart or hearts of the person within. Alfred Phoenix destroyed the lives of these people over his uncontrollable grief!

And just how had the Doctor dealt with losing Rose? He had been a fool, all this time, as the grief of losing her made him lose sight of the bigger picture.

Rose was gone. He wasn’t getting her back.

The Doctor wouldn’t blame himself for this, not anymore! These deaths, these bombing incidents were on Alfred Phoenix’s shoulders. He would not be dragged down by this man. The ruins around him, the suffering and death here, these were not by his hands. His hearts pinched and his eyes stung for what surrounded him now.  But he would not add this to his guilt.

Now that he was only the Time Lord left, he had to protect the universe. He had to stop people like Alfred Phoenix from endangering the lives of others. That was the reason he used The Moment, why he killed his own people, for the sake of others! He could no longer ignore that call.

He caught sight of the TARDIS. He needed to get to Earth. To stop and find Alfred Phoenix, he needed the rest of the original bomb that had been constructed. He should have done that before, but his mind had been too preoccupied with Rose, too distracted by the idea of her return and what that meant to collect enough data to pinpoint and track his adversary. Luckily, the Doctor knew right where to look.

~~~vVv~~~

Martha followed closely behind Jack, while Donna took the rear. They had cut their way through the fence and had been dashing between the outer shacks of the facility to keep cover. They came to a stop just behind one of the largest warehouse buildings.

In the past thirty minutes, Martha had realized just how well the three of them worked together. Donna had almost instinctively taken the rear and Jack spoke to them mostly through eye contact. Martha wasn’t trembling, breathing heavy, nor did she feel on edge. She held her head high and kept her eyes focused. Working with Jack, and now Donna, felt right. Thinking back on all the times she had done this with the Doctor, her thoughts had always been on him. She let him take the lead and then worried about him, sometimes not even thinking about her own needs.

Perhaps when all this was all said and done she would take up Jack’s offer.

“I think this is it,” Jack whispered, standing next to a faded blue door.

“Do you think it’s locked?” Donna asked.

“I think we can pick it. God, what I wouldn’t give for the sonic screwdriver.” Martha craned her neck to peer over to the door from beside Jack.

Jack gripped the door handle and turned. The door swung open with ease and he gave them both a cheeky grin. “I’m always thankful for cutbacks.”

“Good thing I’m voting Saxon then,” Martha replied as she walked past Jack, who held the door open, and into the building.

“He the bloke who married Lucy Cole?” Donna asked after her.

“I’ve been out of the loop, but I think so.”

“Yup, Harold and Lucy Saxon look to be a shoe in for the office,” Jack said as he closed the door behind him. “We can talk about politics later over a cold one; right now let’s find our loot.”

“Agreed, I want to find the Doctor and the sooner the better. I can’t help shake the feelings something’s happened to him.”

Donna grabbed her arm. “What? What do you mean something happened to him, is he hurt?”

Martha looked over to Jack; he jerked his head to the side then averted his gaze. She turned to Donna and placed a hand over hers. “Someone’s been after him. Last I saw he was okay,” she glanced up, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she looked back to Donna. “Maybe upset but physically he was fine.”

“So he’s alone then?”

“Yeah.”

Donna clenched her jaw and dropped her hand, balling both into fists. “The man was daft before, but this? Complete stupidity. You’re telling me someone is hot on his heels and he just dumps you to go sulk? I told him not to be alone—he almost got himself killed the last time.”

“It’s more than that though, he lost someone and we think he might have been hallucinating, like seeing her ghost.”

“Do you mean Rose?”

“You know about Rose?” Martha asked, her stomach tightening. Although jealousy poured from her heart, she held her tongue. It had always been about Rose.

“First time I met him was right after she was gone. He spoke about her, could tell it hurt him a lot to have lost her.”

All three exchanged worried expressions and Jack nodded. “Right, time’s a wastin’, let’s split up and search for the bomb. If one of us finds it, whistle.”

Martha headed off down the middle aisle, Donna took the left while Jack went to the right. The dark warehouse had beams for the shelving that were rusted or missing, and the shelves themselves were caked with dust and cobwebs. A dim sunlight shone through small rectangular windows that edged the corners between the roof and the walls.

Martha’s thoughts scattered between the Doctor and the events of the last day. He was alone, isolated by the universe--and yet here were people ready to help him. He talked about Rose as if she had been the only one to travel with him. But now Martha knew better and that wouldn’t stop her—she wouldn’t give up on him. He needed her, and even if he couldn’t say it, she still knew it. She wanted to expel the far-off expression he would have after a trip or after something she said—she wanted to fill with laughter the moments he’d grow suddenly quiet instead of talking a mile a minute—she wanted to curb the way he’d rush into danger without thought. She wanted to reach out and touch him, to let him know she was there, if only he’d look.  

A broken, faint whistle came from one aisle over. It was Donna.

She followed the whistle, passing through a broken shelf large enough for her to fit and stopped when she saw what Donna had found. A new cardboard box sat opened haphazardly on the floor, like it had been left there in a hurry, and above it pieces of metal and plastic floated in the air, bouncing and glowing like fireflies. 

Donna stood frozen, staring with wide eyes.

“I think you found it,” Martha said, hoping to shake her from her reverie.

“Yeah,” Donna breathed out quietly.

Jack came running up behind Donna, his eyebrows raised. “That’s definitely what we’re looking for.” He leaned in closer, but kept a safe distance from the glowing, floating shrapnel.

“Do you know why it’s doing that?” Martha asked.

“Whatever I might say is purely guesswork, but I think I do,” Jack supplied, his fingers outlining the pieces in the air, but not touching them. “It’s out of time.”

“Out of time? How can it be out of time? Did it waste it on the internet?” Martha smirked before knitting her brows together, watching as Jack followed the shrapnel with his eyes.

Jack backed away from the phenomenon and looked at Martha pointedly. “If only.” He put a hand on Donna’s back and she peered up at him, finally coming out of her daze. “Years ago, when I was still working with the Time Agency, I peeked into a room I shouldn’t and saw something very similar to this. I overheard them talking about the items being out of time due to too many Time Jumps. We were taught that carelessly traveling through time, with very little rest between jumps, can cause items on us to waver between the past and the future. It can cause dangerous rifts in reality or change timelines fundamentally if not properly disposed of.”

“Is that sort of like being in a Temporal Flux? I think the Doctor mentioned that before, when the Carrionites tried to change the past.”

“What are Carrionites?” Donna inquired.

“Witches,” Martha teased. “They were aliens really, from what the Doctor told me.”

“Giant alien bugs, alien flying metals, and now alien witches—is everyone here human or you all aliens?”

“We’re human,” Jack looked upward before rolling a shoulder, “essentially.”

“Essentially?” Martha and Donna asked simultaneously.

“Let’s just focus on why we came here.” Jack waved his hand dismissively and then glanced at Donna. “And to answer your question, yes, at least from what I learned from the Doc, it’s something like a Temporal Flux but more volatile. I don’t know how the Time Agency handled the ones from before—we need the Doctor for this.”

“Do you think he’ll be able to pick up on it?” Martha asked.

“Possibly, maybe, but we don’t know when he’ll get whiff of this.” Jack flipped his coat back and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“So we wait?” Martha looked between Jack and Donna.

“That’s our best bet, especially since these things are just going to get worse if not taken care of soon, I’m sure he’ll come right when he’s needed,” Jack smirked, his expression nostalgic. “At the last minute.”

“What happened if they’re not taken care of in time?”

“No clue, like I said, guesswork, so I’m guessing it’ll destroy the universe or rip a hole in reality to…wait,” Jack cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes. “You said he’s been seeing Rose and acting weird, right?”

“Weirder than normal, definitely.” Martha nodded, turning her head away from Jack, not wanting to make eye contact. Remembering the Doctor’s actions since this all began made her skin crawl.

“When is that man ever not weird?” Donna asked.

“He can have his moments,” Jack gave Donna a quick wink and then turned back to Martha, ducking his head, his eyes serious. “If Rose is trapped in a parallel universe than these,” he indicated the flying metals with his thumb and then put his hand back into his pocket, “could be a way for Rose to send him messages. Maybe she’s been trying to communicate with him and he’s taking it the wrong the way?”

“Or it might not be Rose, he could be just seeing things and those,” Martha watched as the shrapnel passed each other in midflight leisurely, “are about to destroy the universe.”

“Or,” Donna lifted her eyebrows and frowned in thought, “it’s just changed your timelines so you’d find me. I rather think of the least bad possible scenario, thanks.”

“True, that’s why we need the Doctor, he’d be able—” Jack furrowed his eyebrows and turned in a circle, his eyes scanning the room. “Does anyone hear that?”

“I don’t hear anything,” Martha said.

“I hear nothing but you two breathing.”

Jack stood silently for a moment, staring at the ceiling, his attention jumping from one small window to another. “Come on!” Jack rushed out of the building, slamming the door open.

Martha followed, looking back to make sure Donna was close by. Jack’s coat flapped around a corner and Martha picked up her pace, her feet crunching the rocks on the ground. She ran into a small field between the buildings with Jack in the middle, standing still.

Martha stopped at his side and looked up at him, his expression faraway. “What did you hear?”

“What are we looking for? Are we supposed to be seeing something?” Huffing from their sprint, Donna almost barreled into Martha.

Jack kept his focus, his eyes unblinking, straight ahead. “I’m seeing something alright.”

Martha followed his line of sight and saw a blonde woman, wearing a pink hoodie and black jeans, walk behind another building close by. Martha gasped, “Was that…?”

“Uh huh,” Jack turned to Martha, “that’s Rose, but when I last saw her years ago.”

“Years ago?” Martha asked. She locked her gaze on Jack, who wore an expression of worry and confusion, similar to how Martha felt.

Donna lightly slapped both their arms. “What are we waiting for, let’s run after her.”

They all exchanged looks before taking off in Rose’s direction.

~~~vVv~~~

The Doctor flashed the warehouse security his psychic paper, walking past the gate and following the pathway to the main cluster of buildings. He held his head high, his hands in his pockets, nodding and smiling to others in greeting, doing his best to blend in. He made it to the passageway between a group of buildings, which was devoid of any activity. After checking his surroundings, he pulled out a small thrown-together device that emitted a beep in short intervals. He held the device out in front of him, studying it as the intervals between beeps grew smaller or larger as he pointed it in one direction or another. As the beeping picked up speed, the Doctor went forward, following the sound.

The deeper he walked into the facility the more the hairs on the back of his hand and neck stood up. He saw flashes of pink and yellow in the corner of his eyes, but he ignored them, keeping his attention on his device.

Another flash appeared and he started to turn his head. He squeezed his eyes shut and returned his focus back on the task ahead of him. She wasn’t there. Gooseflesh prickled his skin as he caught her scent on the wind and unblinkingly he held his device closer to his face. She wasn’t _there_.

He passed a series of buildings, the paint peeling off and fading from the walls the further he went. The beeping came rapidly, almost to the point where it became one long beep. He was almost there. His time senses felt frayed, something needed his attention.

He stopped a few meters from a faded blue door, the image of Rose in front of him, blocking his way. She wore the same pink hoodie and black jeans like the last time he envisioned her.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t go in there if I were you, Doctor.” She locked eyes with him, hers glossy and piercing.

“I have to Rose, I have my responsibilities.” He pocketed his device, switching it off. He knew where to go now. “I won’t follow you anymore.” A dull ache unfolded in his hearts and his stomach clenched at finally talking to her and seeing her so close. The ache turned to acid and heat, anger churning his insides. She wasn’t real. She was gone. She wasn’t with him.

“Those responsibilities are going to get you killed and then who’ll be around to save the day?” She tilted her head, shaking it slightly, and her voice cracked as she pleaded with him.

“It doesn’t matter. I have to do this.” He turned away, running his hand through his hair, peering up to the half clouded sky.

“Of course it matters. And you don’t, you can walk away and let the others handle it for a change.” Rose pursued her lips, tears gathering in her eyes. “Please.”

He clenched his teeth and swallowed, looking back at her with blurry vision from his own tears. He tore his eyes away from her, pacing back and forth. He threw his hands up in the air.

 “I won’t argue with a ghost!” He stopped pacing and moved closer to Rose, surprised he could smell her and feel her body heat. That only made him angrier. “I can’t be--be chasing ghosts. From the moment I left Gallifrey I’ve done too many things that I can’t change, and even if I could change them, I won’t. And I need to let go Rose. I need to be able to get past what I lost, what I’ve done, everything, even what I’ll continue to lose. You should be – a – a memory! To give me strength in my darkest moments, not -- drive me mad with these… _hallucinations_!”

She smiled, half hearted. “Who says I’m a hallucination?”

 He blinked and wiped his face. “You can’t be anything else.”

 The smile disappeared and her brows knitted together and up. “You’re wrong Doctor. It’s not the first time you’ve been.” Her voice deepened, seriousness and reproach seeping through.

His face hardened and he stared at her, not letting himself be swayed. "I’m the last of the Time Lords!” He yelled, looking away to control his emotions before glancing back at Rose. “I can see the past, the present, the future... I have immense -  _unparalleled_  knowledge of the universe! I know what can be and what will be. And I know I’m not wrong.” He swallowed again, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. “Not about this." His voice broke on the last word.

She smiled, even as her tears ran down her face. “You sure your shoulders can support that head of yours?” Her voice was soft, teasing.

“Of course it can!”

She rolled her eyes, playful. “Then you’ll be needing ice when it hits the floor.”

He leaned forward, drawing his brows together. “Ice? What ice? What’s going to hit the floor?”

All her teasing and playfulness vanished from her face. A shadowed passed over eyes, darkening them. “You’re wrong Doctor. You need to find me.”

Something pinched his neck, a needle most likely, from what he could tell. Within seconds his head grew heavy and weary, his vision swimming before him. Rose dissolved into beautiful golden dust, swirling in the air as if in a dance. In his state he marveled at it and wondered where it came from and where it would go. Oh.

His exposed skin, hands and face, absorbed the golden dust that had been Rose.

Then he saw nothing but blackness.

~~~vVv~~~

Martha ran besides Donna as they followed Jack around the warehouse building where they had found the floating shrapnel. They followed a fast moving, though walking, image of Rose, who kept her back to them. No matter how fast they ran, she remained out of reach. Martha began to understand why the Doctor had been so frustrated, if this was the one person he needed above all else, this felt like a tease.

They turned a corner and all three of them stopped, Jack flung his arms out to hold them back. A few meters away from the front entrance to the warehouse, a blond, long haired man in a short brown jacket hauled an unconscious Doctor over his shoulder.

 “That’s him! That’s Alfred Phoenix!” Martha shouted, pointing at the scene before them.

Alfred Phoenix glared at them, lifting his upper lip in disgust. With one arm securing the Doctor, he lifted his hand and with one finger, pressed a button on his Time Vortex Manipulator. They turned into a teardrop shaped light and shot into the sky.  

“He took the Doctor! We need to go after them. You two do something!” Donna yelled, panic clear in her voice.

“He was wearing his coat! My phone should still be in his pocket!” Martha exclaimed, thinking fast.

“Good.” Jack grabbed his cell phone from his pocket and dialed Torchwood, pressing speaker as soon as someone picked up. “Owen? Are you picking up anything from Martha’s phone?”

“As a matter of fact we just picked up a blimp. I was going to call you but you beat me to it.” Owen’s voice sounded nasal over the phone.

“Just tell me where the signal is coming from,” Jack said.

“You know that ship being reported by those UFO blogs? I did a little investigating and that ship is emanating over three hundred times the normal Gamma radiation for regular interstellar spaceships. Plus it’s headed straight for the sun. If that ship has any type of explosive device on board, goodbye Sol, hello charred Earth. Plus that’s where the signal is coming from.”

“That’s not good,” Jack added.

“How can we get to the ship and stop it?” Martha asked into the phone.

“Is that possible?” Donna glanced to both them, a mix of hope and worry in her eyes.

“We have to try, now that the Doctor is out of commission, there’s only us.” Martha placed her hand on Donna’s shoulder, squeezing it, before dropping it.

Jack held the cell phone to his mouth. “Owen, you hear all that? We’re going to stop that thing and we need options. What’d you have for me that can get us to that ship?”

“The old teleport Suzie was working on could do the trick.” Owen suggested.

“The pizza we sent through came back as soup, I don’t think that’s gonna work.”

“Why not the TARDIS?” Donna asked.

“Even with my knowledge of technology, I can’t fly that thing,” Jack stated sadly.

Martha sighed, they were running out of time, with the floating shrapnel, the ship heading for the sun, and the Doctor in danger, they needed to figure this out fast. She wished the Doctor had given her more instructions in cases of emergencies. “Neither can I, he gave me one lesson and told me I almost destroyed the Renaissance.”

“At least try!” Donna begged. “That’s what you said! We don’t have many options.”

“I could try to lock my Time Vortex Manipulator on to his, but ever since the Doctor worked his sonic magic on it, I haven’t been able to get it to work probably.”

“So let’s try the TARDIS, can’t lose what we don’t have,” Donna’s voice squeaked. 

“Maybe we could ask the TARDIS for help, and maybe she could do something?” Martha said. She agreed with Donna, they should at least try the TARDIS, they didn’t have any other options at the moment.

Jack glanced at them both. “Alright, but let’s think of a plan b, c, d, all the way to z on the way.” He turned to the phone. “Owen, give me call back once you’ve got a list. And send my phone the signal to the Doc, just in case.” Jack ended the call and shoved the phone into his pocket.

“So where do we find the TARDIS?” Donna asked.

“It should be around here somewhere, it won’t be too far off,” Martha answered.

They rushed back to the opening in the fence they had cut out before, keeping their sights open for any sign of blue. Martha wondered if she failed the Doctor in some way. She had tried to be there for him, she had tried to find him as fast as possible. It didn’t seem good enough. She didn’t seem good enough.

She tuned out Jack and Donna as they brainstormed a contingency plan. She pulled out her TARDIS key and held it close to her chest. Martha gripped it tightly, wishing on all the stars in the sky to find the TARDIS.

 Jack let out a loud happy “Woo hah!” and Martha looked up. The TARDIS was nestled between a few trees off the side of the road where there was still grass poking out of the brown dirt.

“We got lucky. Suppose time is on our side,” Jack beamed.

“I think it’s just doing us a favor, after all we’re here to save a Time Lord. Plus, you know, the Earth.” Martha felt a sliver of hope bloom in her chest. She ran to the ship and unlocked it in record time.

They all stepped inside quickly.

“Oh, am I happy to see this,” Donna exclaimed.

“Be happier if she agrees to help.” Jack gave Donna a lopsided grin.

Martha headed straight for the console, searching for anything that might help them. “Anything look familiar or…?”

Jack nodded. “Familiar yeah, but nothing is really coming back to me on how to start her up or how to connect her to the signal.” Jack took out his cell and wiggled it at Martha. With a sigh, he tossed it onto the console.

The doors to the TARDIS slammed shut and the ship pitched sideways, causing Martha to grab onto the Time Rotor to keep herself upright. Donna had grabbed onto the railing while Jack spread his legs and gripped the edge of the console. The ship then steadied out.

 “What was that?” Donna shouted.

“No idea, just hold on,” Jack yelled in return.

The TARDIS swayed again, forward and backward, side to side. The ship screeched with anger, jolting them ahead at top speed.

Martha caught something flickering on the screen. “There! Something just appeared!”

Jack held his hand out to Martha and pulled her closer. Donna climbed her way to them. They crowded around the console monitor and waited. It flashed again but turned dark almost immediately. A second later it light up and a blonde haired woman appeared. Donna gasped. Martha knew who she was without a doubt, Jack’s expression only back up her conclusion.

“Save him,” Rose urged.

The screen turned into a flurry of white and black pixels. The TARDIS calmed and the sound of noisy static filled their ears.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by Kilodalton

Opening his eyes, the Doctor saw grating similar to the flooring of the TARDIS. His fog-filled head mistook it at first, thinking he was home. The harsh maroon light and the sharp foreign hum of the ship told him this wasn’t the TARDIS.

Shaking his head to clear it, he squeezed his eyes shut before opening them again and looking up. On his knees and tied to a metal bar, he couldn’t move, not that he wanted to at the moment. With his back to the Doctor, Alfred Phoenix stood at the controls before a large view screen. Sol, the sun of the Earth, took up more than half the image.

Scanning the rest of the room, the Doctor saw barreled bombs, the same that destroyed the Time Agency, occupying most of the space. The ship dragged onward, heavy and unwilling, and the Doctor could speculate that the rest of the ship contained enough barrel bombs to cause Sol to go super nova.

“You don’t have to do this,” the Doctor croaked, his voice dry from whatever drug Alfred Phoenix had given him. His body and his mind had yet to recover fully and he could not analyze his system.

Alfred Phoenix turned, scrutinizing him before stepping closer. “I don’t know if it’s better for you to have woken or if you should have stayed asleep.”

“Let me guess, I’m bound for the same destination as my fellow passengers?” He leaned his head in the direction of the closest barrel bomb.

“Not such a hard thing to guess correctly. This has always been your fate.”

“Obviously.” The Doctor groaned, pain searing his head. “What did you give me?”

“Something very hard to find. It seems your species went extinct years ago.”

The Doctor couldn’t concentrate on exactly how he could get that information. Alfred Phoenix must have gone through a lot of trouble to find something that could work on a Time Lord. “So that means I don’t have to inform you I’m the last?”

“You should have died with the rest of them.” Alfred knelt, an arm length away, scowling at him.

“Yes.” The Doctor let his head fall back, lifting his chin to look down at the man holding him against his will. “You don’t have to kill anyone else. Kill me and let the Earth go. Let my death be enough.”

Alfred’s face tightened, his fists balled at his knees. “There can never be enough! It’s better this way!” He shot up on his feet, opening his palms, his eyes wide and crazed. “Without her – without Hedy, my love, how else can I dull this pain?”

The Doctor met his eyes. “That’s the funny thing about a Time Lord, you get to deal with all sorts of pain that only linear time can deal with. Everything is healed with time, everything hurts less with time. Time helps you move on.” As the words left his mouth, the Doctor realized how insincere and untruthful they felt.

“Do you really believe that?”

“I have to.”

Alfred vigorously shook his head, waving both his hands dismissively at the Doctor. He went back to the controls, staring absently at the sun on the view screen. “After the first, it had been a mistake; it was just easier, especially with her next to me, to continue. One death hurts, but many blurs the line. They’re no longer faces to haunt your dreams, just nameless statistics. Without her, how many will I need?”

The Doctor saw the commands Alfred was inputting, one more command line and the ship’s course would be locked into place. “Just – Just don’t, I’m here, right here! Kill me and be done with it. But that isn’t going to bring her back!”

“I know that.” Alfred Phoenix stood still, his hands frozen over the control. “Nothing will bring her back. I’ve tried. I tried everything. I went back so many times and nothing I did prevented her from being taken from me.”

“You can’t change things from your own personal timeline.”

“How would you know?” Alfred Phoenix sneered, his face hidden from view as he continued to stare at the sun on the screen.

“Time Lord, didn’t you get the memo?” He didn’t mention how he had tried to go back to save Rose, tried to bend the rules of time, but had been unable to in the end.

“Is that what your species did, make rules and force them on others, meddling with things they shouldn’t?”

“Like you? Meddling with time, going back and forth, back and forth, without thinking of the consequences?” The Doctor’s chains rattled behind him as he moved his head back and forth to punctuate his meanings.

“Time doesn’t matter, Time Lord. Going back and forth, knowing the things that would happen, it makes it easier to find places to destroy, to liberate. People that need the gift of death, they helped us as we helped them. That isn’t meddling, not like what you do.”

“And you know what I do?”

Alfred Phoenix turned his head to the side. The Doctor could see his profile, silhouetted by the light from the sun. “Destroy lives.”

A sharp pang slashed through his chest. The words rang in his mind, loud and true. He shook his head and buried the bubbling guilt threatening to choke him. “And the Earth? Won’t you be destroying lives?”

“That’s my gift of suffering to you, knowing your death will be the first. You will die with those you love.” Alfred Phoenix looked back to the control console and stretched his neck, cracking it. “Unlike me.” The last part he said in a whisper and the Doctor understood he wasn’t meant to hear it.  

Before the Doctor could say another word, Alfred pressed enter and locked the system. The ship’s lights flashed and Alfred Phoenix turned to the Doctor, smirking. “Time to go.” He raised his chin. “You won’t be able to escape. Enjoy your death. May you finally be with your people.”

Alfred Phoenix stretched his arms to pull back his sleeves, revealing his Time Vortex Manipulator. As his index finger aimed to press a button for him to disappear the ship trembled, causing Alfred to drop his arms and study the controls, looking back and forth between readings.

The Doctor’s hearts expanded with pride and hope, he could feel her nearby. A breeze swirled around the room, blowing the clothes and hair of the two men. Alfred frantically searched for the source when a faint image of the TARDIS appeared and a whooshing sound filled the room. She dimly reappeared once more then solidified.

“What’s this? How can this be? It’s just a ship!” Alfred said raucously.

The Doctor smirked. “She’s not just a ship. She’s the TARDIS, one of the greatest life forms in the universe.” He’d keep the fact someone needed to fly her to himself.

Alfred marched over to the Doctor, grabbing him by the collar, yanking him to his feet, slightly hindered by the Doctor’s wrists bound and tied to the metal bar. “Send it away.”

“Sorry. Can’t.” The Doctor beamed at him, bobbing his head from side to side.

“Or won’t?” Alfred narrowed his eyes at him, jerking the Doctor back. “Make it –”

With a loud whack, Alfred’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and he fell. Martha dropped the TARDIS mallet and caught him before he could hit the ground.

The Doctor nodded impressively to Martha. “Impeccable timing, really, you’d think this was a show or a play or a–”

“You okay? Are you hurt?” Martha cut him off, standing straight and her eyes roaming from the top of his head to his feet.

“I’m fine. Perfectly—stop that.” She was pulling on his upper eye lids, checking him like the doctor she was training to be.

“Your eyes are dilated and bloodshot.”

“Oh, well, yes, that’s what happens when someone is drugged.”

Jack came out of the TARDIS, with a gun in hand.

“Jack!” He grinned, surprisingly happy to see his former companion. “I take it that you helped Martha find the TARDIS?” The Doctor looked at the gun and held back a grimace at the sight.

Jack went directly to Alfred Phoenix, pulling the unconscious man to the side. He tore off Alfred’s Time Vortex Manipulator and stepped back, keeping his gun directed at the bomber. “No thanks to you.”

“How did you find _me_ and, more specifically, who flew the TARDIS?” He asked, wanting to dispel the sudden tension. Martha reached into his coat, flagrantly rummaging around. He narrowed his eyes at her, perplexed. “What are doing?”

She pulled out her cell phone and pointed it at him. “This is how we found you!”

“That’s brilliant!” He beamed at her. “Martha Jones, even one step ahead of me. Now that’s impressive!”

Martha quickly averted her gaze, putting away her cell, and ducked behind him. “We saw Rose on the TARDIS viewer, so either the TARDIS flew herself or Rose did something. Do you know which?”

He sucked in a breath and held it, his hearts skipping a beat. His mind raced to find answers. Jack’s eyes were on him, expectantly, and he could sense Martha’s own curiosity from behind him. Quietly he said, “I won’t know until I can get inside the TARDIS.”

Martha pulled on his restraints. “How can we get these off of you?” Her tone was lighter than before.

“Try the sonic screwdriver, left pocket of my suit jacket,” he said in a flat voice, his mind not only on stopping the ship, finishing his investigation of the warehouse, dealing with Alfred Phoenix, but also on why the TARDIS flew on her own and why Rose would appear to his companions. Answers were not coming to him. A cold chill ran through each of his nerves as he realized his own limitations.

Martha dipped her hands into his suit pockets, searching for the device. “I remember.”

His eyes followed Martha as she took out the sonic screwdriver and aimed it at his bindings.

“Setting 30b,” he said.

“Doctor?” A new voice called his name, one that felt old and familiar.

He looked at the TARDIS and in her doorway stood Donna, her lips forcing down a smile yet utterly failing, her body stiff with apprehension. “Donna!”

She closed the space between them quickly and threw her arms around him, knocking him into Martha, who kept at his restraints. “Oomf, careful!” He pulled back at the same time as Donna. “Why are you here too? How’d that happen? How, in fact, is any of this happening? Did you find Martha and Jack and convince them to take you with them, out of the blue?”

“Ha! More like they found me! I was just minding my own business, trying to break into that warehouse place and they come up behind me and asked to tag along!”

“What were you doing trying to break into the warehouse?”

“Looking for you, why else would I break the law for hovering metals?”

“Hovering metals?”

“Yeah, the bomb pieces started floating and glowing.” She waved her hand dismissively. “I had the option to go to Egypt, but I changed my mind… I wanted to travel with you, see the universe like you said.”

He swallowed the lump that had formed at those words, wondering if he would destroy her life if she went with him. He closed his eyes and then opened them, the corner of lips twitched upward. A hot ball churned in his gut and a selfish desire pushed back his guilt. Seeing them here, Martha, Donna, and even Jack, he wanted them with him.

When all this ended, it would be safe. He’d make it safe. He’d prove Alfred Phoenix wrong.

A loud clank sounded from behind the Doctor and his wrists were freed, interrupting his thoughts. Martha came to stand next to Donna, holding out the sonic screwdriver. “Jack said the metals were out of time,” Martha said, still barely meeting his eyes, her face cold and impassive.

He took the sonic back from Martha, tucking it into his suit pocket. He raised a single brow. “Did he?”

“Had seen it before in my Time Agency days,” Jack supplied as he remained near Alfred Phoenix.

It had been a long time since the Doctor heard that phrase. Time Lords strictly obeyed the rules to avoid the term, even him. Then the answer hit him. “Oh, Oh! How thick am I!” He beamed and caught the eyes of all three of his companions, happy to have figured out something. “Alfred Phoenix’s constant time travels close in both time and area caused his work to become Out of Time. The longer they went without someone dealing with them, the more powerful they got and BAM! They begin to change timelines, trying to sort themselves out! It’ll alter the course of a person’s life if they’re nearby,” He paced the small bridge, running a hand through his hair, then stopped and pointed at Donna. “Donna, you said you had the option to go to Egypt but you didn’t, what made you change your mind?”

She shrugged. “Just a feeling I suppose. I was really looking forward to the trip, planning to go barefoot and all; just–thought things would be the same after I came back from vacation. I didn’t really want that, so I started investigating, looking on the internet.”

“And that’s why you went to the warehouse looking for me, this feeling?” Donna nodded and he began pacing again. “It’s probably happening to all of us, why we’re all here, right now. Someone made a decision and it created ripples.” The Doctor stopped and stared at the unconscious man on the floor. “And I’m thinking that someone was our Mr. Phoenix.”

“Won’t you need to take care of them, those things that are Out of Time?” Donna asked.

He turned his attention to her, tilting his head to the side with a nonchalant frown. “They won’t start really doing damage for another few hours. First we–“

He was cut off by the alarms, a loud screeching noise that made it hard to hear and talk.

“Doc, we got a problem over here!” Jack yelled as he looked at the main controls. He still pointed his gun to Alfred Phoenix, who remained unaffected by the alarms.

The Doctor rushed to Jack’s side, Donna and Martha right at his heels. His eyes flew over the messages on the screen and the readings on the instruments. “Yep, just as I thought, our host dead locked the system, so this ship is headed straight for the sun.” The Doctor turned to glance down at Alfred Phoenix. “We need him to enter the disabling code.”

“I think I can handle that,” Jack boosted before kneeling. Lifting the bomber by his collar, Jack tapped the man’s cheeks a few times each.

Alfred Phoenix remained unresponsive.

“Here, let me,” Martha said.

Martha switched places with Jack and her hands dived into Alfred Phoenix’s hair. Her actions were quick, clinical, and precise. “No inflammation, so the concussion shouldn’t be that bad.” She opened his mouth, checking inside, and then she shifted him into a sitting position. With fast motions, she waved air into his face with her hand.

“Hn…?” Alfred grunted.

Jack pointed his gun closer to the bomber. “Give us the code to disable the guidance system.”

Alfred Phoenix sighed as he adjusted his position on the floor, leaning against the wall. He shrugged, looking up at Jack and smirked. “Sorry. Can’t.”

The Doctor stepped forward and forced down the words he really wanted to say. Instead he took a breath and bore his eyes into Alfred Phoenix’ stare. “Seven billion lives are at stake! Are you really going to let them die when I’m still walking, talking? This isn’t revenge; this is murder and chaos for the sake of murder and chaos! How is that going to help you dull the guilt of all those people you’ve killed? It won’t, it’ll only make it worse.”

“I refuse.” Alfred Phoenix showed his teeth, a mockery of a smile. “Your Earth is going to burn.”

The Doctor nodded. “Right, well, over my dead body, which I’m sure you’ll enjoy.” He pointed to Donna as he headed for the nearest corridor. “Donna, you’re with me.” He looked over to Jack and Martha. “You two watch over him and make sure he doesn’t get any explosive ideas.”

“No problem here!” Jack shouted.

“He won’t move a muscle.” Martha crossed her arms as she glared at Alfred Phoenix.

The Doctor placed a hand on Donna’s back, leading her with him down into the bowels of the ship. “Come on!”

Running through the maroon washed corridors as the alarms still blazed in their never ending intensity, the Doctor searched for the engine room. Donna followed closely behind him. They stopped once they entered a large room full of pipe, levers, and moving parts. The niches and archways were filled with barrel bombs, making it hard to maneuver.

Scrunching up his face, the Doctor scanned the room. “We need to find the Power Regulator Panel, or the PRP. Within it will be generator cells, similar to a fuse box on a car. We need to reset the Ion Converters and redirect it to the backup power systems. We’ll be restarting the engines so the alpha relays can switch over to the beta ones, allowing us to retake control.” He ran his hand through his hair, looking absentmindedly across the room. “Or maybe we can bypass the proton valves, manually switch over the cells by adjusting the radiation intake manifold to detect–Ow!” He jumped as soon as Donna slapped him on the arm. “What was that for!?”

“What does it look like?” Donna said, exasperated.

“What does what look like?”

“The thing? The PRP or whatever we’re looking for?”

“Ah, yes, it’ll look like a rectangular box or shape. It could be hidden on a wall or in the floor.”

Donna went immediately behind a large console, ducking down to search crevices. The Doctor walked further into the engine room, his eyes wandering to the corners and hard to see places.

His mind had cleared from the drugs and his thoughts drifted to the images of Rose he’s been seeing, that his companions have now seen, and how the TARDIS flew on her own. When Rose disappeared the last time, her image had turned to golden dust that his body had absorbed. His stomach swooped and his hearts raced as he realized that this meant Rose could be alive.

No, that meant she was very much alive. Her image had to be something else completely. He just didn’t know what. He suppressed a smile; he had to stop the ship and save Earth. He could figure out what the image of Rose was after he settled this.

“Doctor!” Donna shouted over the alarms and the moving parts of the engine.

He ran over to her. “What? Did you find it?”

“I found this.” Donna held out her hand and in her palm sat a fist sized ceramic statue of a wolf howling. His breath hitched as his eyes widened. The room stilled and time felt as if it had paused, though he knew that it hadn’t. He reached for the statue, wrapping his fingers around it carefully. It was warm.

“Donna, where did you find this? What was it on?” He asked urgently.

Donna pointed to the floor behind a large control console. “There. It was just sitting there, like someone placed it.”

With speed, the Doctor knelt behind the console, tucking the wolf statue into his coat pocket and pulled out his specs to investigate the floor. He ran his long fingers through the grating, finding tiny anomalies along links in the metal. He pushed down on a corner between different grating panels. A part of the floor, a medium sized rectangular box, popped up. “Hah! Look what we have here! The PRP!”

He glanced over to Donna and they shared a smile.

“Ha!” Donna exclaimed, mimicking him.

The Doctor turned back to the PRP and took out his sonic, aiming it at the wires within. The lights in the ship turned dim, the alarm turned silent, and a cranking sound echoed through the walls. The alarms and the lights turned back on, harsh in both sound and brightness. He jumped up, pocketing his sonic and nodding to Donna to follow as he raced out of the engine room and back to the bridge.

On the bridge, the Doctor went directly to the main controls, typing in commands, his fingers flying over the keys.

“Did everything go as planned?” Jack asked.

Without turning his attention away from the controls, the Doctor answered. “Perfectly. Just a few more letters, a symbol, and then I’ll hit enter,” he did so with a flourish, grinning when the alarms turned off and the lights changed from maroon to white, “done.” He turned to his companions, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets, ready to be complimented. “We’re currently on course away from the Sun and all danger.”

“No.” Alfred grunted through gritted teeth.

Suddenly Alfred Phoenix stood and launched himself on Jack, who spun around, gun pointed straight. As Alfred Phoenix’s arms clawed around Jack, a loud crack went off, stinging the Doctor’s ears. Alfred Phoenix slid to the floor, limp and lifeless, with a bullet hole centered in his chest. Jack stood frozen over him.

Martha hurried over and checked his pulse, before shaking her head. “He’s dead.”

The Doctor’s eyes flickered to the face of the man who had hunted him and saw that Alfred Phoenix’s brows were slanted, his lips parted, and his eyes were closed, peacefully. He remembered his words, how death could be a gift. Perhaps for him it had been. Somewhere along the line Alfred Phoenix had lost himself and probably only found his relief through death.

But the Doctor’s thoughts turned to Alfred Phoenix’s decision to kill him and how it had changed the lives of so many people. Alfred Phoenix had killed thousands, setting the course for others to mourn or make do. Alfred Phoenix had altered the lives of his companions and had set the Doctor on another path, another timeline.

The Doctor couldn’t do that to his friends or to the people he cared about; he couldn’t change the lives of others so haphazardly. In the quietness of the moment the Doctor saw himself in Alfred Phoenix and realized he needed to do better. The Doctor had made a decision to protect the universe and more importantly, those close to him. Now, he needed to stick by that decision.

He looked to Martha and frowned. He swallowed the lump in his throat and reached into his pocket, touching the wolf statue, feeling its rough surface, and remembered Rose’s smile.

“He shouldn’t have done that.” The Doctor turned and headed to the TARDIS.

The ship, filled with the promise of death, moved silently in the peaceful vastness of space.

~~~vVv~~~

It took an hour to tow the ship, carrying the barrel bombs and Alfred Phoenix’s body, to the doorstep of The Shadow Proclamation. The Doctor left it there without a note and set their destination to the Police Warehouse on Earth immediately. He gathered all the items that were Out of Time and carried them to the TARDIS in a box. He flew his ship back into space and chucked the box out the front door, surprising his companions, who gapped at him like fishes on land. The Doctor told them to neutralize the power of those objects all they needed was zero gravity. The only tang of guilt he felt about it was the fact he could be charged with space littering.

After sorting all pressing matters, the Doctor parked the TARDIS in Cardiff, at Jack’s request. He leaned against the console, feet crossed, turning the wolf statue over and over in his hands as he waited for his companions. He still hadn’t figured anything else out about Rose or the TARDIS or even the wolf statue. To him, it all lead back to Bad Wolf, but that should have been over and done with years ago.

The doors of the TARDIS flew open to the sounds of happy laughter. Martha, Donna, and Jack came walking in, Jack with a large jar in his hands.

“And look what we have here, one 100% organic Doctor hand,” Jack announced, “With free delivery, of course.”

Wide eyed and smiling the Doctor turned to Jack. “That’s my hand!” He titled his head to the side. “Well, that’s what you just said! Where’d you find it?”

“Long story short, it sort of fell on me when I went outside to check on the situation with the Sycorax. Now I’m returning it to you.” Jack sat the jar down below the console, patting it before standing straight.

“But you have two hands!” Donna exclaimed.

“Lost it in a swordfight and grew another one,” the Doctor said as he wiggled his fingers.

“Just when I thought you couldn’t get anymore alien…” Donna shook her head.

Martha smiled, silent.

“So! Since we’re all here, ready to explain to us exactly what happened?” Jack asked cheerfully.

The Doctor breathed deeply, parting his lips slightly. He tensed, looking between his companions. “I don’t know where to start.” He pushed off the console and stood closer to them. “I suppose at the beginning and what affects you lot the most. So,” exhaling, he continued, “it seems our timelines have all changed, irrevocably, when Alfred Phoenix decided I needed to die. We aren’t meant to be here and now. I can’t change it so there’s no use in worrying about, especially since there haven’t been any serious repercussions I can see so far.”

“Like we won’t meet certain people or…?” Martha asked.

“Or get a certain job, have the same children, or die on a Wednesday. It’s all different now,” the Doctor replied.

“Because of the Out of Time bits?” Donna asked. She glanced to Martha, both women wearing an expression of concern. He ignored it, knowing that there was nothing he could do for them or say anything that would ease their worry.

“Yes. When he made multiple trips back and forth in time in such a short period, ignoring the most basic rules of time travel, he created very small tears in reality, that quickly healed, but not before doing it what it did to those closest to the action, namely me, then Martha, then Jack, and finally Donna.” He glanced up, his eyes wondering the ceiling before coming back down to his companions. “And, I suppose, probably everyone in that town as well.”

“Why did he want you dead?” Jack inquired and Martha and Donna nodded.

“He blamed me for the death, or disappearance, he never really made that clear, of his lover. But I’m thinking it was more than that. He was at a tipping point in his life, a precipice. And he chose to go after me, thinking it would make things better.”

“And I’m guessing he didn’t pick the road that led to his peace of mind,” Jack said.

“That depends on what you consider peace of mind,” the Doctor replied gently.

The air in the console room grew heavy and the silence felt loud, even to the Doctor.

“And what about Rose?” Martha whispered, breaking the moment.

“And the TARDIS flying on her own?” Donna added.

The Doctor nodded to them both. “Yes, that -- that I’m still trying to figure out. I’ve checked her systems and there’s nothing out of the ordinary. It’s…the TARDIS needs a pilot or, well, the last time she flew on her own it was because Rose looked into her heart and directed the TARDIS back to her previous destination.”

“When we first saw Rose at the warehouse she was wearing the same clothes that she wore at the Game Station,” Jack said.

“I’m – I’m aware of that.” The Doctor caught Jack’s eyes and clenched the wolf statue in his hand. “Rose, her image, has shown herself to me ever since Alfred Phoenix began his attacks. Martha couldn’t see her; no one else seemed to have been able to see her, until the warehouse. I thought, before, it meant Rose…that she–she had died. Now I’m not so sure.”

Martha moved closer to the Doctor, looking up to him with eyes shining with sympathy. “Why do you think she isn’t dead?”

“Bad Wolf?”

The Doctor felt a shiver pass over him at the sound of Jack’s question. He stared at Jack, who stared back, only Jack’s line of sight wasn’t meeting his eyes. The Doctor looked down at the wolf statue in his hands and his eyes grew wide. He had speculated that Bad Wolf was involved somehow, but could it be…

“What’s Bad Wolf?” Donna asked.

The Doctor studied the wolf statue closely, bringing it closer to his face. He turned it over and his eyes grew wider. On the bottom of the statue, carved in messy hand writing similar to Rose’s, were star coordinates that matched the TARDIS’ navigation systems. His hearts were beating out of tune and he could feel the heat of his blood rushing through his veins, igniting his system. _Find me._ “It’s Rose.”

“Bad Wolf is Rose?” Martha asked.

The Doctor looked up and beamed, feeling lighter than he had in months. “Yes, it’s Rose, it’s–it’s Rose!”

He skipped around the console, safely placing the wolf into his pocket, and inputted the coordinates, unable to wipe the smile from his face. He glanced over to his companions, all of them wearing confused faces but he grinned at each of them.

“Wait, what?” Martha asked, incredulously.

“Again, what’s Bad Wolf?” Donna asked with a sigh.

“Where are you taking us?” Jack walked over to his side, peering over the Doctor’s shoulder to see what he was doing.

He focused on flying the TARDIS, concentrating on the screen, unable to stop grinning. “She’s left me a message on where to find her, so that’s where we’re going.”

“Oi! Spaceman! What’s Bad Wolf!?” Donna yelled, agitated.

The Doctor whipped around to look at Donna. Her agitation didn’t dampen his mood; instead he bounced to the TARDIS doors, feeling weightless. He yanked the doors open to the impressiveness of space. Turning, he stood tall before his companions, knowing that they saw him and what’s behind him. He beamed, teeth showing, hearts soaring. “Bad Wolf is Rose Tyler temporary wearing the mantle of Time Goddess, a being just powerful enough to be able to locate the most impossible to find space phenomena. And believe me, I’ve tried.” He bobbled his head from left to right. “Oh, I love impossible things.”

“What’s that behind you?” Martha asked, her eyes full of wonder.

“That is the River of the Universes, the only thing that connects all parallel universes together naturally. It’s the safest way to travel between worlds without causing any damage. A bonafide Time Lord Myth, busted and brought to you by Bad Wolf,” his hearts pounded, each beat giving him more and more strength. He was unable to temper his smile, freely forming without a thought. His muscles twitched with the desire to move, to bounce, to jump. His skin felt tight and impenetrable, as though it was a barrier protecting the warmth of his emotions and the rush of blood traveling through his body, purifying any misery that remained in him. “Anyone fancy a trip to Pete’s World?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by Kilodalton! Thank you to everyone who has followed along with this story!

**Six Months Ago, Torchwood Tower, Canary Wharf, Pete’s World**

Rose sat crossed legged on the white floor, surrounded with mechanical bits and bobs strewn about. She twisted her spanner, trying to connect two black panels together. The nut on the other piece of equipment came undone, tumbling to the floor beside her. Clutching the spanner, she threw the tool across the room, where it collided with the white wall with a loud bang.

 Mickey, sitting across from her with his own spanner in hand, gaped at her with a crinkled forehead. “Whoa, babe, take it easy!”

Easing her shoulders in defeat, she shook her head. “Sorry,” she sighed, the wind coming out in a whoosh.  “You’re right, sorry.” Growling, Rose stomped a foot as she got up and went to pick up her tool.

“I know you’ve been itching to get this thing up and running, but it won’t do that by you throwing spanners.”

“I know, I know. And it’s not like anyone else in Torchwood is going for this project either.” She stared at the tool in her hand, her muscles feeling weak and threadbare. She could sense Mickey watching her, but she didn’t care to move.

“You’ll see him again, I know you will. If he isn’t doing something to bend those rules of his, then you’ll be the one to do it.”

Shaking her head to dispel the tiredness that had crept behind her eyes, she dropped her hand holding the spanner to her side. “It’s not like those were his rules, I’ve told you. I’m not getting back to him if it means collapsing both universes.”

“But he said it’s impossible, what you’re trying to do now.”

A smile tugged at her lips and she glanced at Mickey. “He says a lot of things are impossible, doesn’t mean it’s true. And aren’t you supposed to be cheering me up?”

Mickey gave her lopsided grin. “That’s what I’m doing, seems like telling you ‘you can’t’ is better than the other way.”

Laughing, Rose sat down on the floor.  “Yeah, ‘cause I don’t like people bossing me around.”

“Which is why you bypassed almost twenty protocols to start working on this, what, Dimension Carrier?”

“Cannon.” She corrected. “And we’re gonna need the Doctor one day and everyone is going to be grateful I broke those protocols.” She placed the spanner next to her the pieces of equipment yet to be assembled.

“Maybe.” Mickey stood and stretched, arms and torso reaching for the ceiling. “I’m going to get a bite to eat, I’m famished. Want something?”

“No. I’ll just,” she glanced around the barren room, wishing she could snap her fingers and have the prototype cannon ready for testing, “clean up here and maybe go home early. Like you said, I need take it easy…haven’t taken a day off in weeks.”

He frowned nonchalantly. “Sounds good, see you later then?”

“Yeah.”

Mickey left the room, the glass door closing silently behind him.

Rubbing her eyes, Rose grabbed the nearest piece of equipment and moved it to the corner of the room. She gathered nuts and bolts, depositing them in to open containers. Picking up tools and placing them in the tool box, her mind went to the Doctor.

She missed him, often and always, even when she took too many missions that ran her ragged. This newest project was an obvious diversion created by her dad, Pete, to slow her down and give her hope. They indulged her ideas, hired the top engineers and scientists to theoretically create the Dimension Cannon, and gave her an instruction manual on how to put it together. Yet they refused to let her team work on it, only her. Mickey was helping on his free time.

She glared at the large paper manual sitting in the corner, mocking her, and she wanted to the fling it into the closest supernova.

The prototype cannon was in pieces on the floor and after three weeks trying to put it together, she had a feeling unless something dire came up, the cannon would never be completed.

Rose wondered if maybe that would be a good thing, as she’d done so much, saved the world fifteen times so far, made tons of alien friends, held peace and trade negotiations, and it felt right.

But she wanted to share this life with someone. And she could only see that someone as the Doctor.

Leaning against the wall, Rose closed her eyes and imagined what it would be like to have the Doctor with her, right now.

A noise broke her day dream and she opened her eyes to see a woman, carrying a large black box, breathing heavy, hair a riot, with rumbled clothes, open the door to the room.

 “Can I help you?” Rose asked, curious.

The strange woman jumped out of her skin. “Oh! I didn’t see you.”

Rose pushed off the wall and walked towards the woman. “Do you need help with something?”

“Oh no, I’m new here! I was sent by the Tech Department to attach this to the Dimension Cannon.”

“I don’t remember that,” Rose nodded to the box, “being part of the specs.”

The woman shrugged. “It’s new.”

“Well, the prototype cannon‘s not done yet, still just pieces on the floor.” Rose gestured to the floor with a flick of her hand, “As you can see.”

“Did you want me to help with that?”

Knitting her brows together, Rose’s eyes took in the woman from head to toe. She wore a long coat and her shirt was wrinkled and half tucked in. Her leggings were ripped and her boots looked out of fashion. Narrowing her eyes at the woman, Rose remembered how her Dad had been very clear; no one was going to assist her with the cannon. “You’ve been cleared to work here?”

“Yes, I have! I think together we can put the Cannon together extremely quickly!” The woman smiled, a half grin, half smirk that showed too much teeth that didn’t reach her eyes. Rose suppressed a shiver.

Rose slowed her steps, her stomach tumbling with caution. “Can I see it?”

The woman’s grip on the box tightened. “I’m sorry. I’ve been instructed to let no one else touch this.”

Rose focused on the woman’s badge. The name read Hedy Lamarck, but the coloring was wrong, the picture in the wrong place, and the glue stuck out from the corner of the picture. An obvious fake if Rose ever saw one.

“So Hedy, is it? Was it Mark or Joe that gave you the device? ‘Cause if it was Joe he probably told you to put it on backwards. Not sure why Dad keeps him on, usually gets everything wrong, he does.”

“No, it was Mark.” Hedy’s voice shook.

Rose took another step forward and then stopped as she noticed the box in Hedy’s hand. Rose could identity different technology pretty well after years with the Doctor and Torchwood. The box was slick, humming softly. It was too advanced for this time period. It reminded her more of the things Jack used to brag about during their runs to the pub. “Right. Big, tall guy with brown hair?”

“That’s him, he told me not to let anyone else touch it.”

“Big, tall brown haired Mark from Tech,” Rose puckered her lips and then pursued them. She spread her legs, trying to move Hedy closer to the exit, “we don’t have a Mark like that.” Hedy’s eyes went wide and Rose’s back went rigid, ready for whatever came next. “So, tell me, who are you and what do you want?”

Hedy’s breath, already fast, increased. She pulled out a gun from her back pocket and aimed it Rose, her other hand curling around the box protectively. “Just–just let me do this! I need to get back to him!”

Rose, keeping her breathing even and calm, raised both her hands, palms out and open.“Okay, you don’t have to worry, yeah, no one is going to hurt you.”

“You don’t get it! It hurts now!” Hedy yelled, frantic.

“What hurts?”

“Doesn’t matter, it’ll stop as soon as I finish this.” Hedy circled around Rose, keeping her gun aimed at Rose, moving deeper into the room.

“Finish what?”

“The Dimension Cannon with my modifications. It’ll work and I’ll get back to him.” Hedy reached the Cannon pieces and knelt beside them, carefully keeping her hand on her box and her gun pointed at Rose.

“Alright, think I can understand that. I have to get back to someone too, yeah? So there’s no need to be pointing that weapon at me.”

Hedy looked over the pieces and then glared at Rose, raising her gun higher. “You’re Rose Tyler, you’d stop me. I’ve heard stories of you, since I’ve been here, in this–this place, this awful world.”

“Why would I stop you if we’ve got the same goal, seems like we should work together, like you mentioned before.” Rose kept her voice low and comforting, hoping that something she said would get through to her. This wasn’t the first person she had encountered from another universe and it probably wouldn’t be that last.

Hedy’s attention stayed directed at the pieces of the Cannon on the floor, her eyes calculating. Rose moved slowly closer to Hedy, who popped her head up and turned to Rose.

“Stop! Stay there while I do this.” Hedy yelled, standing up. She paced the room as Rose stood frozen.

“You’re going to put together the Cannon with one hand?” Rose followed Hedy’s movements with her eyes, keeping her hands up to placate Hedy.

“I can’t let this out of my sight. It’s the only thing that will make this work. The Cannon, as it is now, won’t do anything. I need to rip holes in the walls of the universes and that is what this device will do. I won’t let anyone, anyone, touch it but me.”

Rose sucked in a breath. “Oh, so that’s what you meant. Yeah, sorry, now I gotta stop you. I can’t let you do that. The universes would collapse.”

Hedy rolled her eyes. “No, they’d merge.”

“First time I heard that.” Rose trusted the Doctor before this mad woman.

“It’s obvious.”

“Not to me.” Rose watched at Hedy’s pacing grew faster the more she glanced back to the unfinished Cannon. The hand holding the gun would lower each time Hedy looked back to the pieces on the floor. Rose, with each pass Hedy took, slowly reached behind her to pull out her cell from her back pocket. Hoping to distract Hedy, Rose spoke cheerfully. “So, tell me, what universe are you from?”

“Does that matter?”

“Could be, if you come from the same place I’m from. We could swap stories.”

Hedy stopped pacing and glowered at Rose, who quickly held up both her hands. “I don’t know, I just know I’ve been to this world once before, on accident. Here for only a few seconds, then home again, to him. When I got sucked into that building, into that white nothingness, I had only seconds before death to teleport myself here.”

Rose caught a glimpse of a Time Vortex Manipulator peeking out from one of her sleeves. “You’re a Time Agent? I used to know a bloke who worked as one years back.”

“No, I took this from a dead one.”

“Oh.” Rose looked to her shoes, sickness turning her stomach at the thought.

Hedy resumed her pacing; looking torn as she recklessly pointed the gun at Rose’s general direction. With Hedy distracted, Rose tried again to take out her cell. She had an emergency number on speed dial to Torchwood that would send a team to her immediately.

Rose had the cell phone in her hand when Hedy abruptly turned and scrutinized Rose. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing. My arms got tired, is all.” Rose looked directly into Hedy’s eyes, keeping her hands behind her.

Walking forward, Hedy swept her eyes over Rose, narrowing them impeccably. “Show me your hands.”

Rose tucked the cell phone into her sleeve and brought her hands forward, turning them over for Hedy. “See, nothing.”

Hedy closed the distance between them, keeping the gun directed at Rose and Rose could see the madness shining from the woman’s eyes. Those eyes roamed over Rose’s hands and then stopped, widening slightly before narrowing on her sleeve. Hedy’s teeth clicked. Without a second’s delay, Rose grabbed Hedy’s wrist, twisting the gun away. Hedy pulled the trigger and shot the wall to the left. Hedy tugged at her wrist, but Rose held on and they spun in a circle. Rose grasped for the box in Hedy’s other hand and Hedy leaned sideways, keeping the box out of Rose’s reach.

Rose pushed harder, trying to get to the box and keep the gun pointed away from her. Hedy tugged at her wrist again, yanking free from Rose’s hold. The momentum caused Rose to fall forward and her fingers circled Hedy’s elbow on the arm holding the box. Rose pulled, causing the woman to drop the box.

Time slowed as Rose watched the box fall.

“No!” Hedy screeched.

The box hit the ground with one of its corners, hard and solid, denting the floor. The moment the box bounced back and hit the ground flat, a large shockwave burst forth from its core. It knocked Rose backward, her head slamming into the wall. She crumbled to the floor. Her vision blurred, though she saw Hedy on the other side of the room, a piece of the cannon sticking out from her chest.

Voices, muffled, filled Rose’s ears. She could make out Mickey, Jake, and her Dad calling her name. The world spun and dizziness flooded her eyes. As her mind drifted, her body felt vacant. The voices turned into one voice, the Doctor’s. He kept calling her name, sometimes softly, longingly, something desperately. She called out, or she thought she called out, _“Find me.”_

Rose heard the TARDIS, her humming and singing, soothing her, as the world turned dark.

~~~vVv~~~

**Present Time, Pete’s World, Hyde Park**

The door of the TARDIS creaked open and the Doctor stepped out, followed by Jack, Martha, and Donna.

“So this is what a parallel world looks like.” Jack whistled, impressed.

“It doesn’t really look too different,” Martha said.

“I’m actually disappointed. You’d think the trees would be blue and the sky green,” Donna said.

The Doctor, already ahead of them by a few meters, turned to look at Donna. “Why would the Earth have blue trees and a green sky?”

Donna shrugged. “I dunno, it’s supposed to be parallel!”

“You’re thinking opposite. Parallel universes are quite similar to our own, with only have slight differences, here and there. Like the Zeppelins.”  He shoved his hands into his pockets, satisfied with the explanation, and walked towards the street. He took a deep breath and smiled. The sunny day matched his mood. It was probably a Saturday.

When he realized his companions were not following he turned to them and frowned. He tapped his foot, but his friend still resolutely ignored him.

 “What Zeppelins?” Donna asked.

“I think he means those Zeppelins,” Martha said as she looked to the sky, prompting Jack and Donna to do the same.

“Huh,” Donna huffed.

“I wonder if I could run into my parallel self?” Jack asked, wistfully.

“Jack,” the Doctor scolded, ready to move.

“What?”

“How are we going to find Rose?” Martha interrupted them.

The Doctor shrugged, forcing down his eager smile. “She works for Torchwood, so she’s mostly likely, this time of day, to be there.”

“You mean Canary Wharf?” Donna asked.

“She could be in Cardiff,” Jack said.

The Doctor scrunched up his nose. “Nah, her father’s the head of Torchwood; doubt he’d have his parallel daughter work in Cardiff.”

“Hey! I’m going to take that as you meant he doesn’t want her far away from home,” Jack protested.

Donna took out her cell phone, her attention focused on the small device. “How can I get the internet to work on this?”

“Donna, what are you doing? We don’t have all day!” The Doctor’s skin crawled with energy. Rose wasn’t too far away and within his reach, he didn’t want to delay another moment.

“Here let me help.” Martha took Donna’s cell, tapping at the screen. “What did you want to look up?”

The Doctor rolled his eyes. “You can–can look up whatever is you are going to look up later.”

Donna ignored him. “Rose–wait, what’s her last name?”

“Tyler,” Jack said.

His hearts skipping a few beats, the Doctor moved closer to Donna. Perhaps they had the right idea. He swallowed, not sure if he wanted to know what they would find or not.

“Here it is.” Martha gasped, putting a hand over her mouth. “’Rose Tyler, heir to Torchwood leader and Vitex CEO Pete Tyler, still in coma after six months.’”

As Martha read the headline, the Doctor froze, his hearts falling into his gut.

“What does it say?” Donna glanced at Martha. “Go on, read the rest.”

Martha held the cell phone with both hands. “’Six months ago an incident at Torchwood Tower caused the death of a Jane Doe, an unknown infiltrator to the powerful government agency, and severe brain trauma to the their most valuable agent, Rose Tyler. The Tyler family, bereft from the news, has held out hope that Rose would recover. Unfortunately recent tests have discovered no brain activity in the once vibrant and valiant Rose. Based on doctor’s recommendations the family decided to cut off life support last week. However due to unknown technical difficulties, the family has decided to delay their decision and continue to wait.’”

“Oh my god,” Donna breathed.

“What hospital?” the Doctor demanded. Heat rolled through his system.

“What?” Martha asked, her eyes glossy.

“Where are they keeping Rose, what hospital?”

“Oh, um, let me,” Martha tapped the phone a few times, sliding her fingers over the screen in search for the information, “The London Bridge Hospital!”

“Right, let’s go.” The Doctor turned and walked away, towards the street. He had to call a taxi and get the hospital immediately. He didn’t look back or listen for footsteps. His legs jittered with barely held back energy, he’d almost have rather run. His thoughts shuffled through what Rose might need and how to save her. The other doctors, Earth doctors, had probably missed something that only he could pick up.

It didn’t take him long to wave down a taxi. He got in and his companions squeezed next to him. He told the driver their destination and to hurry.

As a Time Lord, he counted each second it took to get to the Hospital and though he knew that it only took nineteen minutes and fifty three seconds—each second that gone by as the car drove weighed heavily on his skin. Time ticked by in slow motion as he took in the buildings and people walking in the streets, each detail a vivid color that swiftly dulled.

It felt like years.

Once the taxi parked outside the hospital, the Doctor dashed out, leaving his companions to deal with taxi driver and payment. He tossed the psychic paper to Donna before entering the hospital and followed the signs to patient care. He heard his companions talking behind him, but he couldn’t make out a single word. He studied the maps mounted on the walls, looking at the arrows hanging from signs, turning corners sharply, his chucks squeaking on the linoleum.

Once he reached the sixth floor, he stopped a nurse and asked, “Which room are they keeping Rose Tyler?”

“Are you family?”

“I’m–I’m her…I’m her new doctor, well, old doctor, just arrived back in London.”

The nurse opened her mouth to speak, but the voice that he heard wasn’t from the nurse.

“There you are! Finally!” Jackie Tyler shouted to him from down the hall, rushing closer. “Knew you’d show up when Rose’s life support wouldn’t shut off. They even unplugged the machines, yet they still worked.”

Before he could reply, Jackie threw herself at him, hugging him to her in a tight grip. He jerked away and grabbed Jackie’s arms, his eyes boring into her. “Jackie, why did you decide to take Rose off life support? Why did you–it’s only been six months, the brain is a delicate organ, there was still a possibility –“

“You weren’t here!” Jackie wailed, beating a fist on his chest, her face twisted in pain “Pete hired the best doctors from all over the world. They all said the same thing,” her voice turned nasal as tears clogged her sinuses, “That she’s not with us anymore. What was I suppose to do?” She grabbed his labels, clutching them then releasing them then clutching them again.

“Waited longer and…And I’ll be the judge of that. Show her to me.”

Everyone was silent as Jackie lead the group to Rose’s room, which luckily was close by. The Doctor turned to everyone.

“Let me—give me a moment alone with her.”

“Save her Doctor,” Jackie whispered.

The Doctor nodded and entered the room, closing the door behind him. Before the door shut he could hear Jackie introducing herself to everyone.

Once everything was quiet, he glanced to the single bed, where Rose slept peacefully. When his eyes fell on Rose, it felt as if someone had reached into his chest and was strangling both his hearts— and that his chest was too small for both the imaginary hands and his own organs. Rose, connected to machines, inefficient machines that pumped air into her lungs and beeped at her every heart beat, looked small and fragile. Her hair was brittle and dry, her skin pale.

She had never looked more beautiful.

He walked over to her bedside and gingerly touched her temples.

“Hello,” he whispered, his voice catching on the vowel.

 His lips quivered as he smiled down at her, his eyes never leaving her face. “I’m here now Rose, everything will be okay. I promise you.”

Closing his eyes, he cautiously delved into her mind and his breath hitched. She wasn’t there. Her mind had very minimal brain activity and most electoral impulses were dormant.

Rose was in between life and death.

He withdrew his touch from her forehead and ran a finger down her cheek. He tucked her hair behind her ear and then, without breaking contact, slid his hand to hers. He entwined their fingers.

_I think you need a Doctor._

The memory sprang to mind and he remembered feeling a connection he had never felt before when his lips had touched Rose on Satellite Five.

His jaw dropped as he realized that Rose was connected to the TARDIS. Since he was connected to the TARDIS, Rose was connected to him through the TARDIS. She had, when she absorbed the Time Vortex, made that connection he had told her about after the Gelth. She should have died six months ago, but instead the TARDIS kept her alive, kept her consciousness alive. Bad Wolf had kept her alive, using the river of the universes as passage.

Rose’s consciousness, combined with the TARDIS, had flown the ship to him when he was in need.

He touched his chest, palm flat against the space between his two hearts. Rose was his third heart. She had always been with him, this entire time. He had been seeing Rose, the real her, her consciousness filtered through him, projected by the TARDIS. Now he had to give her back, where she belonged.

He released her hand and cupped her cheek. Bending down, he kissed her, lips barely touching lips. When golden light illuminated his eyelids, he put more pressure to the kiss. Rose’s lips moved, sliding over his lips, angling her head for better access. She opened her mouth and he did the same, tongues meeting, teeth colliding.

Her hand moved into his hair and his other hand came up to cup her other cheek, holding her to the kiss.

The door to the hospital room burst open and the Doctor and Rose sprang apart. The Doctor caught glimpses of a few nurses rushing in before he turned his back to the group. Licking his lips, he heard the heart monitor’s rapid beating and chuckled.

Gathering his courage, he turned around to see Jackie and Mickey come into the room, their eyes on Rose. Jack, Martha and Donna waited at the entrance, all of them looking to Rose.

Rose cheekily waved to them, a blush glowing on her cheeks. “Um, hello!”

“Oh, Rose!” Jackie lunged at Rose, wrapping her arms around her daughter, sobbing.

“Knew you’d come back to us!” Mickey smiled and hugged both the Tylers.

“Nothing can stop good old Rose Tyler!” Jack entered the room.

“Jack!” Rose lit up at Jack’s voice and the Doctor glared at him.

As Jack hugged Rose, the Doctor started for the door, meeting Rose’s eyes before exiting into the hall.

“Gonna make my introductions,” Donna said, puffing up her chest as she walked towards Rose.

The Doctor leaned against the nearest wall to wait. Martha stood beside him, staring into the room, her eyebrows furrowed.

In the last few hours the Doctor had realized that without Martha, he wouldn’t be here. He owed her more than he can ever repay.

“Martha.”

“Yeah?” She turned to him, her eyes distant and guarded.

“I just want to say,” he took a large breath and wondered if he could ever say what really needed to be said. “Thank you. Thank you so very much. You were,” his eyes met hers and he smiled, “brilliant, absolutely brilliant!”

Martha stared at him, her face blank, and he could see her thoughts clearly as if they were his own. He wondered if she’ll leave when they got back to the other universe. He wouldn’t blame her. “Don’t you ever forget it.” She smiled, warm and forgiving. “I’m going to make introductions as well, meet the famous Rose.”

The Doctor, alone in the hall, waiting for a moment to talk to Rose, pondered what he’ll say to her. He knew she would want more, from him and for them. But could he give her more? He wanted to give her more, but he had obligations and promises and decisions to uphold. He didn’t know if he could do that and love Rose, properly, at the same time.

His eyes darted to the ceiling, burning from held back tears.

 Jackie came out of the room and huffed. “I’m going to get everyone drinks, did you need anything?”

“No, I’m fine.”

She turned to him and placed her hand on his arm. “Don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough for bringing back my little girl.”

“Don’t thank me yet.”

“Are you leaving with her?”

“If she wants.”

“Oh, I know she’ll want to come with you.” Jackie shook her head. “But, that means—“

“I’ve found I way to travel between worlds safely, you’ll be able to still see her, just like before.”

“Really?” Jackie’s eyes were shining with joy. “Then it’s no skin off my back. I got Tony to deal with, that’s Rose’s little brother, he was born about four months ago, and Pete to take care of, and if Rose is happy, I’m happy, so long as she comes to visit.” She looked down the hall and then back to him. “You wouldn’t happen to have seen a little howling wolf statue in there when you were reviving Rose? I got it for her as a gift, hoping those stories of hers were true, but I’ve not seen it in days. I wanted to show it to her.”

Bemused and hardly surprised, the Doctor took out the ceramic wolf statue from his pocket and held it out to Jackie.

“Oh, that’s the one! Thank goodness.” Jackie smiled. “Show it to her for me, will you? I’ll wrangle everyone out of there soon enough so you can spend some time alone.”

Jackie made it half way down the hall when the Doctor finally called after her. “Jackie,” she turned to face him, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Less than an hour later everyone marched out of Rose’s room, Jackie declaring that dinner was on her. On their way out his companions patted him on the shoulder or nodded, or told him they’ll see him later. He shared a fist bump with Mickey before he was once again left alone in the hall.

The Doctor, steeling his resolve, entered Rose’s room. She was smiling at him, with a tray of food sitting untouched on her table.

 “Hey,” she said, her voice wispy.

“Hello.” He stood next to her bed, taking her hand in his. “You’ve not touched your dinner.”

“Yeah, been busy catching up with everyone, meeting Martha and Donna, they’re so lovely.” She beamed, her tongue touching the corner of her mouth. “Besides, hospital food is rubbish.”

His face contorted in disgust. “I’ve recently experienced it myself, so I don’t blame you. Undurans have better food than food found in hospitals on Earth, and that -- and that is, well, if you’ve ever had Unduran food you’d know exactly what I mean. How is eating barely processed meat and vegetables conductive to one’s recovery?”

“Probably hoping the patient might will themselves better to get away from the food.”

“Quite.” Their eyes met and they shared a giggle.

As soon as the giggling stopped, Rose shied away, looking at her lap. “Um, will I ever get to try, what was it, Undun?”

“Unduran, and no, I will not subject you that kind of torture.” Her face fell and he quickly continued. “I will however, take you to Unduran’s sister planet, Naranktp, which has some of the best dishes in the universe, er, well, the other universe, don’t know about this one. If you want.”

Rose gazed at him and smiled. “I’ll be looking forward to it then.”

“Me too.”

The night carried on without him, as he spent it besides Rose, showing her the wolf statue, telling her about the River of the Universes, and the places that they’ll go in the future, until the staff kicked him out.

As he walked out of the hospital, he thought back on their conversation and was grateful that the topic of their relationship had not come up. He had yet to figure out what he’d tell Rose when it did. He knew what he wanted but what he had to do and he wondered how selfish he was being. He wanted Rose to be with him, for as long as possible, but preferably as they were before, to allow him to keep enough distance to continue to make the hard calls.

He wondered if he could do that. He knew what his hearts told him.

Purging the thoughts from his mind, he’d deal with their relationship when she brought it out into the open, not before. For now, he’d enjoy her company and their reunion. He’d help her recover and maybe, the conversation that he feared wouldn’t come up for a long time.

~~~vVv~~~

Rose, recovered and ready to travel, had packed her bags, said goodbye to her friends and family, and boarded the TARDIS. The Doctor had stayed close, not wanting her out of his sight for more than a few hours at a time. Unfortunately both he and the TARDIS had needed to rest and refuel. He parked his ship on Bad Wolf Bay, where the connection to the river was the strongest, and slept for the night.

Once he woke, he bounded into the console room, where Jack, Martha, and Donna were chatting.

“Can we leave yet?” Martha asked the second he was in her sights.

“Nope, not yet! It takes a lot of energy for the TARDIS to transverse the River between Universes. If we’re not careful, we could end up at the end of our universe, millions upon billions of years into the future! Imagine, us landing and stepping out on the last planet in the last solar system as the universe contracts?” He checked the readings on the console screen. “Soaking up the proper energy from our universe is the safest guarantee that we won’t find ourselves in someplace we don’t want to be. We’re running low on reserves as is.”

“Yeah, we can wait,” Martha said.

“Good.” He glanced around the room. “Now, where’s Rose?”

“She’s outside, said she wanted some fresh air.” Donna pointed her thumb to the door.

“Oh.” His mood dropped, knowing that Rose was waiting for him to finish what had been started on that beach. “I’ll go–I’ll go and check on her.”

“Uh huh, sure, go and ‘check on her’.” Jack smirked at him and the Doctor shot him an unpleasant look. Now was not the time to be joking about that.

He exited his ship, closing the door behind him to give them privacy. He saw Rose. She wore the same expression as she had when last he saw her here. Her face was set in a frown, her eyes full of concern as she looked out into the ocean. He swallowed the lump in his throat and came closer.

She reached out to him with both her hands. “So, here we are again.”

He took them both, wrapping his fingers around her cold palms. “Fitting, I suppose. There’s a reason it’s called Bad Wolf Bay.”

“What reason is that?”

He adjusts his hold on her hands, squeezing them. “Do you remember anything while in your coma?”

She blinked, turning away, letting the wind toss her hair, and then gazed back at him. “Bits and pieces, it was something like, not a dream, but a, dunno, maybe a memory that’s hard to recall?” She ducked her head, staring at her shoes. “I kept seeing you and,” Rose flicked her hair back and met his eyes. “You were hurt or in danger and I tried so hard to stop it, but I couldn’t.”

“You did. You did stop it. You saved me, more than once, you and the TARDIS.” At the Time Agency building, the protective bubble kept him from a painful permanent death. He knew now that it was probably the TARDIS extending her shielding using Rose’s consciousness to locate him.

“So it was real then?”

“Very real.”

Rose pursued her lips together, her face crumbling and her eyes glassy. “Are we—”

He squeezed her hands again. “Rose…”

“What’s going to happen? To us? Back to just traveling, back to the way things were?”

“Rose.” He warned, sounding harsher than he intended. His foot ticked forward, and he was ready to wrap his arms around her in hopes to stall what he knew was coming.

“I still–I still love you.”

The words both break and warm his hearts more than any other words have ever done. Gazing at her, his throat dry and burning, he croaked out his answer. “I—I can’t…”

“Then tell me you don’t,” her voice broke and she stopped, then took a breath and continued, “That you don’t love me–that you don’t want me. I’ll stay and–and move on, yeah?”

His stomach turned at the thought. “No.” He tugged her closer, fear chilling his hearts that she won’t be by his side. “I won’t lie to you Rose. I won’t run from you either.”

“Then why?”

“Because I’m the last of the Time Lords. I’ve made a decision to protect the universe, well, I suppose, multiple universes now, and I can’t…” _I can’t be with you like you want, I can’t give you the life that you want on the TARDIS, I can’t watch you die, I can’t pick between you and the universe, you and others, when I know the answer would always be you._

“Wouldn’t it be better if I stayed then?”

“I won’t–I won’t be without you Rose, not unless you’ve changed your mind.”

“No, I haven’t.”

His hearts decide and hardened. Looking at her, seeing her tears in her eyes, feeling his hearts beat too hard, his stomach too twisted, he won’t let this be the end of it. “Then I promise you Rose Tyler, I will find a way, for us, to be together, properly.”

“How?”

“I don’t know yet. But I won’t rest until I do.”

“So we’ll walk back into the TARDIS, just best mates until you can fulfill that promise?”

“The bestest of mates,” he glanced to the sky, “though that’s not a word, ‘bestest.’”

His eyes drifted back to her, pleading. She stared at him in silence, searching as the waves crashed upon the shore. The tears locked in her eyes dried. “Yeah, alright, I’ll wait and hold you to it. But…”

He raised one of his brows. “But?”

“Do you think, before we go back, we could, just this once, pretend?”

“Pretend? Pretend what?”

“That we’re together and nothing else matters but us?”

Both his hearts skipped a beat as the words warmed his body. A moment with Rose, forgetting everything for that time, was a gift he did not want to reject. Releasing her hands, he didn’t answer. Instead he cupped her face and pulled her in for another kiss. Her lips were chapped but soft and he moved his lips simultaneously with hers. He dipped her backwards, wrapping his arms around her as far as they could. She reached up to run her fingers through his hair and he opened up, meeting her tongue.

This connection to her ignited his synapses and he didn’t want it to end, knowing that it would. Resigned, he rubbed her back, slowing down the kiss until they broke apart.

He stepped back and held out his hand. “We should go.”

She took his hand, entwining their fingers. “Yeah.”

They walked back to the TARDIS, silent.

Once inside the TARDIS, Rose beamed. Her face remained bright and cheerful, hiding any sign that she might be hurt or distressed by what had just happened. Entering the TARDIS together had felt like a new beginning and perhaps that is what she felt too.

“Hey there, lovely lady,” Jack called out to her and the Doctor glanced at him. There was still something there in Jack’s eyes, questions that need to be answered, and Jack was waiting.

“Having fun without me?” Rose quipped back.

Jack smirked. “Never!”

“We were just talking about the upcoming elections,” Martha said. The Doctor stared at her and she didn’t look his way. Guilt stabbed his gut. If she left, he wouldn’t stop her and that would be for the best.

“Harold Saxon is going to win.” Donna sounded completely sure of herself. He smirked, pondering what has changed for her now that those Out of Time fragments had altered her timeline.

“Who’s he?” Rose asked.

“Newcomer that swept the nation, he’s all over the news. He’s not too fit, but he’s got charisma at least.” Donna said, thumping a beat on her leg with her hand.

The Doctor stood on the other end of the console room, watching his companions but tuned out their conversation. He had a promise to keep. He peered up at the chameleon arc. He could probably tinker with it so that he’d keep most of his own memories and turn human. He shook his head; would he lose himself that way? He was a Time Lord and he didn’t want to completely rip that part away.

He looked over to Rose; taking in her smile, hearing her laugh, and his eyes fell to the jar holding his spare hand, sitting quietly under the console by her feet. He had lost that hand when he had regenerated and became a new man for Rose. His gaze was focused on the hand inside it, Rose’s laughter echoing through his hearts, and he promised, more to himself than anyone else, to find a way. His thoughts swirled into a plan. The jar holding his hand bubbled.

**The End…?**


End file.
